


Bit and Bridle

by geekinlikeaboss



Category: overwatch
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Anal, Butt Plugs, CBT, Chastity, Cock Cages, Conditioning, Cum Play, Dehumanization, Dirty Talk, Fisting, Fucking Machines, Gags, Gift Fic, Humiliation, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Masks, McHanzo - Freeform, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Pony Play, Rape, Sex Toys, Tumblr, Yakuza, bdsm island, endurence kink, enslavement, gagging, gaping, jaspurrlock, mafia, nipple turture, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekinlikeaboss/pseuds/geekinlikeaboss
Summary: This work is heavily inspired by the AMAZING jaspurrlock and their McHanzo artwork on tumblr.Specifically this one: http://jaspurrlock.tumblr.com/post/158640100257/for-sale-dNOTE: This fic contains a LOT of non-con, rape, and otherwise problematic behavior that I would never condone in real life but for the purposes of fanfiction I have a hell of a lot of fun writing! If this isn't your bit, please don't read it. I have plenty of consenting fics out there to enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaspurrlock](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jaspurrlock).



The scent of stale tobacco clung to the room like old curtains. Dim lighting made it easy for him to make out the details of his surroundings as he saw another man shuffled by, 'escorted' by two armed men in well tailored suits out past the doorway and onto the stage. He could hear whistles and hollers, the sound of bids echoing back to the cage where he was being kept. 

Yakimada Bidding Hall. 

Hanzo growled at the indecency of it. He'd warned his father more than once that the Yakimada group was becoming far too bold in their movements, encroaching on Shimada clan territory. It's something they never would have dared a mere ten years ago. He'd begged the clan patriarch to deal with them swiftly. Nothing too exaggerated for the yakuza. Make an example of a few base thugs and you show you are not willing to be pushed around, it makes the entire group think twice about moving on what belongs to you. 

His father had rejected the idea. Instead he had proposed a civil meeting with Naoko Yakimada, to discuss the matter. Shojiro had always pushed for peace between the rivals clans. It was better for everyone if they could maintain respect and sincerity. Turf battles only increased police interest in the conflict and drove down profits. 

In interest of protecting his father, Hanzo had decided to come with him.

Now he didn't know if Shojiro was dead, alive, or captive as he was. This was a yakuza slave market. Shojiro had always disapproved of such places. He felt that such things were beneath the dignity of the Shimada. At the same time, he had never looked too far into them and had avoided objecting about their existence when the rival clans met. Too many others had found profit in the market. It also didn't do to upset your equals.

Another person was drug past, a woman this time. Hanzo gave her a pitying look, but there was nothing he could do in his current position. He would survive this. Of that he was sure. If they wanted him dead it could have been accomplished at the talks. They could have beat him to a pulp and then dumped his body in the river to be nipped at by the little fishes. They could have tied him up in a car, pulled his teeth out, and set everything on fire. That was their typical resolution to a problem. 

But it wouldn't have been a fitting end to the Shimada's. 

This would send a much more definitive message to the rest of the yakuza. 

Hanzo saw two shadows appear at the edge of his pen. The end of a cigarette butt flared and he vaguely recognized one of Naoko's sons. He knew him in passing but the name escaped him. 

“So? Why do we got this one all trussed up?”

Naoko's boy smiled. “He caused trouble when we brought him in, more so than most. Wouldn't want him being difficult when Mr. Marricone arrives.”

Hanzo growled under his breath, his dark eyes daring the bastard to get closer and try him again. The bridle shoved back behind his teeth pulled his face into a nasty grimace, like a dog threatening from behind a chain link fence. One might think themselves safe, but how safe was entirely up for debate. He tried to crack his neck, straining against the posture collar as it bordered on choking him. He shifted in the extender bar, his arms pulled out behind him and enforcing his subdued position. They certainly intended to keep him neatly presented. That being said, he felt the bar between his knees was overkill.

“When's he getting here anyhow? I don't like the way this bastard is lookin at me.” 

“He'll be here soon enough. You don't rush men like Marricone. They don't take well to it. Besides, he gives us a lot of business.”

Hanzo snarled at them, his upper lip curling and nostrils flared. He had to stay calm enough to think things through. Father had always told him to watch his temper. To set a better example for Genji...

~Genji.~ 

If he was grateful for anything, it was his brother's absence from the country. If there was just one loyal member of their people out there, they would find Genji and ensure he didn't return to Japan while it was too dangerous. 

Of course that ment by the time he did return, it would be too late to help his brother, or their father.

Hanzo closed his eyes and wiped that thought from his brain. He couldn't let himself be distracted. Genji could be foolhardy, but he was a Shimada. They knew how to bide their time and wait for the moment to strike. Right now, he had to guard himself. If they were holding him, that meant they didn't intend to sell him on stage with the other poor souls. They had someone in mind, and it sounded like somebody they'd dealt with before. The name didn't sound familiar to him, but it did sound foreign. He wouldn't be the least bit surprised. Best way to a void trouble on a local level was to make sure you got your merchandise out of the country as quickly as possible. 

The sound of spurs began to echo down the hallway and Hanzo peered up, trying to get a look at who was coming. He saw a wide brimmed hat and a sharply tailored white suit that fit firmly across the shoulders. A wry grin was set against a chiseled jawline and the man took a long drag off a cigar. 

“Well now, what do we have here?” The man stepped forward, Naoko's boys moving from his path without hesitation. There were two men with the newcomer, but they didn't look worried over anything as Hanzo took an awkward step back, growling in defiance. “Heh. Spirited beast, ain't he?”

“Thats why we thought of you. I know you like em with attitude.” The Yakimada son said, stepping up to the position. “He's one of our more desired options. Not like the rest of the rabble we put out. I thought you'd like to at least take a look at him.”

The man who could only be Marricone reached out with a wide hand to lift his chin. Hanzo bristled at the unfamiliar touch and launched himself forward with all his might. He made his target, his head connecting with Marricone's nose and he heard a sickening crack as the man barreled backwards, landing on his ass as Hanzo's frustrated balance meant he went falling forward as well. Even with the straddling bar he managed to stay standing.   
“You insolent fucking cur!” Naoko's son roared and grabbed for a whip on the wall. Hanzo roared at him, drooling through his teeth, daring the bastard to come for him.

A loud, bawdy laughter rang out from deep inside the foreign man's chest as he sat up, testing his nose with his hand and sniffing back when he saw bright red blood dripping form it. “Well! He's a real spitfire isn't he?” Marricone laughed and waved off his henchmen, getting to his feet on his own. He straightened his suit and bolero and took a long look at Hanzo. He then licked his thumb and grabbed the Shimada by the collar, yanking him forward. “Easy there now. We're not gonna hurt ya.” he assured Hanzo and wiped the smeared blood off his forehead. “Easy. There ya go. Can't go messin up a pretty face like that now can we?”

Hanzo made a noise in the back of his throat, glaring at the man with boiling hatred. 

“Well that explains why he's all tied up, eh boss?” One of the henchmen laughed and Marricone chuckled.

“That it does. But tamin wild stallions is a hobby of mine.” He thumbed the plump bottom lip as Hanzo jerked around him his hold, those deep brown eyes glinting with challenge. “How much?”

“Fifty.”

Marricone didn't take his eyes off Hanzo's face. “Sorry. That head butt musta knocked some sense outta me.” He voice lowered. “I thought I heard you say fifty.”

Hanzo noticed his two followers flex and shift, eyeing the much smaller Yakimada men.

Naoko's son pulled back just a touch. “He must have hit you harder than you think. I said forty, I'm sure.”

“...thirty-five.”

“That is too cheap for a stallion. Thirty-eight.”

“Thirty six, five.” Marricone said. “And only cause he's got such pretty lips.” 

Naoko's son nodded. He'd hoped to get more, but it was clear the money was secondary here. “Acceptable. I only ask that you get him out of Japan before dawn.”

“That can be arranged.” Marricone stood up, towering over Hanzo easily. His eyes flickered to the man's shoulder, at the tattoo decorating his pectoral and arms. “Hmmm. Well now. Bad ass ink and a bad ass attitude?” He lifted Hanzo's chin with a wry grin across his face. “I think I'll call you, Dragon.”

~~~

He fought the whole way. Or at least as much as one could fight when they were drugged and lifted into the back of a black van with two guards watching them. He was not unconscious, merely sedated as they drove him down to the pier and the doors opened, showing off a sizable cargo ship. 

“It ain't the QEII, but it manages well enough.” Marricone lifted his cowboy hat a bit and looked up at it. “Get him in a suitable stall. I'll be along soon enough.” He adjusted his jacked and checked his nose again. “And boys...no playing with the new pony.”

“Sure thing boss.”

“Yes sir.” 

Hanzo grunted as he was lifted by one of the bigger men and slung over the shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Numbly he looked around, trying to see if anyone else was around the docks, anyone who he might be able to call out to. He saw others alright. But they all had the look of people who would prevent him from leaving. He shifted on Marricon's thug's shoulder, voicing his protests as they walked him up the gangplank and onto the deck of the ship.

“Steady there. You may think you're tough shit now, but I promise you'll only make it worse on yourself.” The bigger man advised before taking a key card and sliding it into a slot. The red light flashed green and the door opened, allowing them onto an elevator. “Besides, the boss likes you. He has a real taste for picking out good ponies.”

~Ponies?~ Hanzo arched an eyebrow, not fully understand what they meant. Was that some kind of code word in case someone was listening in? The elevator began to descend past the metal and bolts, dropping them into the ship one level at a time. Hanzo looked down at the second man, eyeing the pocket where he'd stuck the keycard and biting down on the bit firmly. He solidified it's place in his mind, memorizing the man's face. 

If Marricone entrusted this fellow with a keycard once, he'd do it again. Patience was the goal now.

The elevator slowed with a great whirling and clicking of machinery, finally jerking to a stop as they arrived. Hanzo blinked as he adjusted to the lighting down here, trying to make out his surroundings.   
Along the aisle were two rows of stalls, made from wood till about waist high and wire from there to the ceiling. The doors to each one carried a keycode lock that glowed an eerie green. Hanzo peered inside, noting that not each one seemed to contain an occupant. The ones that were filled held only one each, and Hanzo could tell they looked as drugged as he was, perhaps more so. 

He eyes the keycard again as an empty stall was opened and he was deposited inside, the posture collar quickly attached to a metal bar in the back and pulled tight, forcing him to his knees. From his position he could make out a pallet, a blanket, and a bucket. Under his bare feet lay straw and wood. Above him was metal and wire. 

“He gonna be calm enough for a while? I don't want him upsetting the others if he decides to go and get rowdy.”

“We gave him enough to keep him pretty sedate. If he starts to get an attitude, we can always give him a bit more. Or let Marricone deal with him. He took to this new pony pretty quick.”

“Nah. Don't read too much into it.” The bigger of the two replied. “He always likes the new ones when they still got some fight to em. Never lasts more than a week or two.” He closed the stall door and Hanzo saw a deadbolt lock into place, a buzzer signaling that it was secure. “They all break eventually.”

Hanzo let out a nasty howl from as deep in his chest as he could muster. His mouth felt dry even as he drooled over the bit, his jaws aching through the hard leather forced back behind his teeth. His shoulders strained as he could do nothing but kneel there, subject to whatever this bastard Marricone had planned for him. He shook his head, trying to make the bit come loose once more, the drugs flooding his system and rendering him docile. Where were they headed? What fate awaited him? He had heard horror stories of those sold on the black market. The short life left to them was one of service and degradation at others hands. He wondered for but a brief moment if Genji would be able to mount a rescue. But it was dashed as he heard the sound of a horn echo through the air and the ships engine begin to turn.

If the Yakimada's were determined to be rid of him, then they would not keep paperwork on his sale. 

He did not know where he was headed. 

He did not know what plans Marricone had for him.

His future was entirely dependent upon his will to survive. 

And his father had always proclaimed his eldest son to be willful.


	2. Chapter 2

Days passed, or so he assumed. He grabbed sleep where he could, wary of the intentions of his captors. So far they had done nothing but care for their new acquisitions, if one could call it 'care'. Every day they came by with food and water. Someone emptied the bucket of waste and brought it back washed out, keeping the smell to a minimum. 

They paid special attention to ensure Hanzo was incapable of rouse a defense. A steady stream of drugs was continually administered. The two thugs Marricone had brought with him were not the limit of his men. Hanzo had counted eight so far, switching shifts every so often, bringing in a fresh set of muscles to deal with the taciturn Shimada. 

“Hold him down dammit!”

“I'm working on it! Fuck! Truman get his fucking feet!”

“I told you we should have done this an hour ago!”

Hanzo fought with everything he had in him. The drugs kept his body numb, making it difficult to coordinate his movements. But at the very least he could thrash or flail, making their job more difficult. They had to remove the bit occasionally, if only so that he could eat and drink, and he made them regret putting their hands anywhere near his mouth.

“Marricone isn't gonna be happy about that black eye.”

“Well I'm not thrilled about the divots in my hand!” The henchman said, wincing as he flexed his fingers. “Look at this! Fucker damn near bit right through to the bone!” He gave Hanzo a nasty look that threatened a lot more than a black eye.

“Easy with it. He'll get his. No pointing in beating him up now.” They managed to wrangles him down long enough to get the next dose of sedative in through his thigh. Hanzo groaned and felt an intense burning sensation run through his arm, his limbs slowly loosing their tension as the heavy fog melted over his brain once more. They laid him back down on the bed, ensuring the restraints were again in place.

Hanzo knew the others here were not under such heavy confinement. The posture collar was still there, chained to the metal bar next to the bed. The restrictive arm bands were removed in favor of more simplistic manacles, holding his arms in front of him so that he could at least move a bit. His ankles were cuffed as well, drawn tight and keeping him from even approaching the door when it was opened. They were determined not to risk another attack. 

He watched them leave from his position on the mattress and managed to lay on his back, feeling the pitch and roll of the ship as they continued onward. Hanzo had tried to measure time here, but it was useless. He did not dare call out to the others now under the control of Marricone. He wouldn't want to risk getting someone else hurt. Not for his sake. 

He also could not afford to risk himself for them.

He had gotten what he wanted with the black eye now swelling against his face. A mark to subdue him, make him more compliant with their demands. Now he began to change his behavior patterns. The next time a guard approached the door, Hanzo looked away, curling into himself a little. He still gave them a defiant look, but he let the slightest edge of fear trace his expression. He thought of himself to be like a fox, brazen, but fearful of man.

“Well. Look who's finally getting smart.” The guard knelt down, checking the eye and cleaning it up, applying some ointment and a patch. “Boss wants you to stay pretty. Don't do us any good if you make us mess you up.” He checked Hanzo over and gave him a pat along the thigh. “You just relax for me. The better you behave, the better off you're gonna be when we get to shore.”

Hanzo grunted in a muted, limp tone. He did this again the next day, cringing and looking away, letting them think him a weak thing who had begrudgingly accept his fate. The day after that they removed the eye patch, looking him over closely and talking more to themselves than to him. They didn't drug him as heavily either, taking notice of the fact that he had not moved about the stall in two days, worrying that they might be making him sick from the sedatives. 

When they left the stall, Hanzo listened to their footsteps fall away as he slipped the keycard out from between his clenched hands. 

He waited.

Patience was everything. He knew there had to be cameras here. Once he moved there would be a limited amount of time before they came after him. He tried to remember the elevator, how many floors down they were, what paths would take him to the upper decks. He sat up on the pallet and began to work on the hard metal cuffs locking him down. 

Lock picking had been a skill had father thought to be beneath the dignity of a Shimada. 

Genji on the other hand, snuck him a set for his birthday. 

He hadn't carried them with him onto the ship. That would have been impossible given the very through search the Yakimada's had preformed on him. But they had neglected to remove his earring. Hanzo pulled the earring loose and undid the back, taking hold of the pin and unscrewing it to slid the thin pick from the barrel of the hoop. He looped it around, giving himself the two ends he needed to begin working on his manacles. 

He stayed crouched and cautious, listening for even the slightest clue that they were onto him. Beneath the blanket and moved, feeling a sense of relief when he heard the tiny click and felt the lock come undone. He removed the manacles and folded his knees up into a fetal position, knowing he would simply look cold as he worked on the feet. 

When he felt freedom on his limbs, he set to removing the collar. That at least was leather and could be undone with the simple unbuckling of a belt. When Hanzo was ready he lifted himself up and slid his hand through the door, undoing the keycard with ease.

He stopped only briefly at the next captive he saw, sliding the card through to him. “Free yourself if you can.” he offered and went for the elevator. 

The door opened three floors up. The guard was on his cell phone. He stepped right inside and it took him just a few seconds too long to realize he was there with someone who shouldn't be there.

Hanzo took no joy in killing an underling. It was only necessity, not his ultimate goal. The man left a bloody smear against the side of the elevator wall and supplied Hanzo with a gun and a cell phone. He tried to dial quickly, his hands shaking more than he wanted to admit. No bars. He muttered something unsavory and looked around. It had to be from all the metal. Maybe once he got on deck he could get a signal. 

The elevator door slid open and he used the keycard to unlock the main door. He slipped out quietly, ducking behind crates as he looked at his surroundings. 

The sun rose slowly over the horizon, the vibrant orange of the coming dawn spreading out over an endless landscape of blue and white. 

~No.~ Hanzo swallowed the sudden dryness in his mouth. He had hoped, prayed that they were traveling along the coastline. He might have been able to signal another boat or even swim if it came down to it. He could have grabbed a lifeboat and snuck off, made for shore. 

But there was nothing in any direction. Nothing but the open ocean and miles of sky. 

He stared down at the phone, dialing again and again, trying to reach one of his father's men, trying to reach anyone. He started to dial Genji's phone and stopped. No. He couldn't bring his younger brother into this. He would not risk Genji's safety simply to save his own skin. 

There was a second option. He had a gun. And no one knew he was free yet. Perhaps he'd gotten lucky and they'd been playing cards rather than watching the monitors. He couldn't kill all of them, but then he didn't need to. He only needed to take down the one they listened to. 

He didn't know where Marricone's room was, but it was easy enough to slip past the henchmen and workers and into the captains cabin unnoticed. Sure enough he found what he was after, the passenger manifest. He was not surprised to see no mention of the live cargo being transported along side whatever was in these shipping containers. Most of the time, people like Marricone didn't own these ships, they rented from Captain's who would turn their head in exchange for enough money discreetly deposited into their bank accounts. He looked for Marricone's name.

~Jesse Marricone: 3A.~

Hanzo looked up at the monitors. He could see guards walking along, but their gait was more of a lazy, meandering sort. No one seemed rushed or upset. No one noticed he was missing yet. Could he have gotten this lucky? ~Best not to press it.~ he continued onward. At first his plan had been to kill Marricone, but now he was unsure. If he killed the man, his underlings would finish him off. But if he could perhaps hold him long enough to get to land, perhaps he could get to a working phone.

Hanzo found the room and slowly turned the knob. If Marricone was still asleep, he would rather get the jump on him. He swung the door open and peered inside, slipping into the room, closing the door behind himself...

For a split second he got that feeling that he was in deep, deep shit. 

Then the taser prongs hit him. 

His muscles were on fire, Hanzo let out a gurgled howl as he collapsed, body jerking on the floor as someone approached with languid footsteps and kicked the gun from his reach. Somewhere in the spams of pain he heard a walkie talkie go off.

:You alright boss?:

Marricone clicked the button. “I'm just dandy. I figured he might head for me. You boys check on the rest of the ponies. I'll take care of this wandering stallion myself.” 

~~~

“Do you know what an Arabian is?”

Hanzo rolled his head around, glaring down at Marricone hatefully. His muscles still burned from the shock. He'd been drug back down to the stalls. His arms were bound tightly to the metal bar, holding them out like Christ on the cross as he was made to kneel on the ground. “Yes. I know what Arabians are.” he said in a gravely tone. 

“Fine horses. Beautiful creatures really. So graceful that when they run, it looks like they're flying. Priceless creatures. But oh are they spoiled rotten! Big windbags, skittish. And they'll give you attitude if ya don't know how ta handle them properly.” Marricone leaned down, grabbing Hanzo by his hair and lifting his head up, making the man look him in the eyes. “Do you know how to handle an arrogant, puffed up pony?”

Hanzo bared his teeth. “You shoot them between the eyes.” he hissed and grunted as the man let go.

“See now thats a waste of a perfectly good horse. No no. You use discipline, and patience. You let them know you're in charge. And in a way, that lets them know they're safe in your hands. It creates a bond of trust between owner, and pony.”

“Who could ever trust a sick, perverted son of a bitch?”

Jesse laughed. A warm, deep sound full of promised amusements and torments. “You'd be surprised. You ain't the first stallion I've tamed. And ya won't be the last. But don't take that ta mean you ain't gonna be fun.” He took a knee and brushed the hair from Hanzo's face. “Now tell me, you know the difference between a stallion, and a gelding?”

Hanzo's face drew out long as he contemplated the meaning of that statement. For the first time since this horrid experience began he felt an actual twitch of fear. “You would not dare.”

“Oh don't worry, Dragon. I'm not gonna remove anything.” The man gave his cheek a few pats. “But you need to get ta learnin your place here. And a puffed up daddy's boy like you has an inflated opinion of himself.” Jesse reached down for the tied of Hanzo's pants, undoing them easily and yanking the trousers down just enough to reveal the man's strong cock. “There's only one stallion in my barn, pony. And it ain't you.” 

“Do not touch me with your filthy hands!” Hanzo growled and snapped at him. “I bloodied your face before, cowboy! And I will do it again.”

“No doubt you'll try. And I look forward to it. But don't you worry. We ain't playin those games just yet. You don't ride a horse till it's broke.” Jesse fondled the cock gently at first, playing with the soft, flaccid tissue in his palms and warming it. “Now don't that feel all kinds of good?”

“Not from you.” Was the retort he gave and closed his eyes, straining as blood pooled in his belly. His own preferences be damned. His cock cared very little about who was rubbing it and very much about the fact that it was being rubbed. “Let go of me!”

“Easy now. No reason to blow smoke at me.” Jesse kept his tone soothing and even as he took the cock by the base and began pulling it in long, slow strokes. He didn't seem to be focusing on whether or not Hanzo was in pleasure, more in whether or not he was succeeding on making the man erect enough for him to work with. “There we go. Startin to get get some feeling into it.”

Hanzo grunted and bared his teeth, straining as a hot little pant escaped his lips. Jesse seemed to know exactly how to manipulate his dick. His thumb rolled over the warm slit, playing with it easily as the cock twitched happily between his legs, a traitorous reminder of how little control he had over it. “Let go damn you!”

“I will soon enough. But ya ain't gonna be happy when I do.” Jesse promised. He reached underneath and weighed the man's balls in his hand, nodding. “Pretty good heft ya got there. We're gonna have some fun with those soon enough.” 

Dread washed over his body as the pumping fingers began to squeeze tightly, working his prick to full erection, making it stand out proudly from his abdomen and point at the man who'd ensured it's arousal. Hanzo closed his eyes and strained, trying to force himself not to think of his much it ached to be hard like this. So utterly out of his element and yet being forced into obedience simply through physical mechanics. “You are sick, twisted. You are utterly deviant...”

“Good. Get that all outta the way now. Maybe once you come ta terms with it, you'll stop mouthin off.” Jesse gave the cock head a tap before putting two fingers on the head and pushing it down towards the floor. He watched Hanzo strain and let out a sharp whine as the cock became aggravated. “Now I ain't got mosta my toys here. So we'll have ta make do. But it's important you learn. Bad, misbehavin ponies get punished. Especially when they kill one'a my men.” He let go and the proud dick bounced back, twitching hotly. 

“Do-do not!” Hanzo gasped as Jesse's fingers closed tightly and he began to jerk the cock off with hard, dry movements. “Ahhhck! Do not!”

“Whats wrong? You're all hot and heavy like this. Don't you wanna shoot one off and let it go back down?” Jesse got in close and lifted the man's chin with his other hand. “You ever let a man jerk you off? Huh?”

“My private life is none of your affair!” 

“You ain't got a private life anymore.” Marricone insisted and rubbed him hard, jerking at alternating rhythms and squeezing down tight. “But you seem like a man with experience. Don't you worry, pretty pony. Thats it, let it go.” His voice turned deep and hungry, watching as clear precum began to drip out. 

Hanzo gulped down when he hand released him, his cock now red and throbbing painfully against his pelvis. The strain was not something to be envied. He looked down at it and back to Jesse as he heard the suspiscious sound of a jar being opened. A second later there was a sharp, somewhat familiar smell of menthol permeating the air. Hanzo was sure his heart skipped a beat when he saw the man take a generous dollop of tiger balm in two fingers and approach. “N-no!”

Jesse chuckled, kicking the legs back apart with the toe of his boot. “Now I thought you'd be a mite bit stronger than that.” He mocked the man with the teasing disappointment in his voice. He let the warming balm settle on the sore head and began to rub it into the sensitive flesh. “I thought you were gonna give me a challenge.”

The deep, burning sensation crept along his cock, tingling down into the skin as Hanzo let out a pained groan! “Nuh---ughhhuh!” He shook his head, his stomach clenching to show the definition of his muscles as the heat took him. “N-no! No take it off!: He strained and looked up. “Get it off me you bastard!” 

Jesse ignored him easily, rubbing it in deep as he began to slowly jerk the cock again, watching the flesh of the foreskin gather and bunch above his thumb before stretching it back down. “Thats it. Let it burn, pretty pony. Let it burn.”

“Naaaahhhhhh!: Hanzo scrunched his face and tossed his head back, thighs quivering as he endured helplessly in the midst of this torment! He looked down in horror as his cock began to weepy easily, desperate for some kind of release! Any sort of relief from this!

“Now thats not the noises I expect from a Dragon.” Jesse teased and held the cock, retracting the foreskin back and placing his palm to the head. “Lets see if we can't make you roar.” He began to rub in quick, concentric circles.

“GOD!” Hanzo howled, struggling, pulling against his bonds! The heat! His cock was alive with fire, grinding as the skin warmed and the tip felt as though it might glow! “Nuh! No! No!” he trembled in the man's grip and let loose with a bleat of pain. “Nuh!”

“Yeah. It's not so nice when you start misbehaving yourself.” Jesse chuckled darkly and applied more pressure, polishing the head like he was determined to get a shine off it. He could see the skin turning a nasty dark red, almost purple as a few droplets of cum began to squeeze themselves out through sheer force. “Thats it. There we go.” Jesse pulled back, letting the hateful cock bob in the air, twitching under it's own desperate lack of control. He watched Hanzo pant and writhe, swallowing his own pants like a man starving for air. The minuets ticked by and the orgasm was staved off with cruel indifference to it's suffering. 

“Y-yuho.” Hanzo snarled as his mind started to come back to him. “You insufferable bastard!”

“Still got a mouth on you.” Jesse smiled and fished something out of his pocket. “We'll see how long that stays, gelding.” He knelt back down, taking the now half hard cock in his grip and squeezing tightly, watching Hanzo strain and open his mouth in a silent howl. Jesse slid the cock ring up, pulling the heavy set of testicles through it and into place. He worked the barrel of the cage up around the soft shaft, fitting the pins into their holes before pushing the padlock into it's spot and snapping it shut. 

Hanzo felt the new eight between his thighs as Jesse released him. The metal chastity cage clung to his shaft and balls with raw determination, ensuring his entrapment. “Bastard.” he growled. “Sick...twisted!”

Jesse grabbed him by the throat and held on just tight enough to make the man gasp. “Now you're gone learn to watch that nasty mouth a yours.” He warned and brought his lips to the indignant Shimada's letting the kiss come soft and tender to the angry scowl. “I'll be back to deal with you later. The boss can't spend all his time playin around.”


	3. Chapter 3

Two days later, they docked.

He had been pissing and dropping in a bucket kicked under him. He had been given water but no food. He had not been harmed, but the looks the other henchmen had given him were less than fond. He'd killed one of them. They would not forget this.

Hanzo had planned to fight when they came to undo him. He did not expect his body to feel so weak and strained. Being held in such a position for hours on end only turned him into a limp noodle when he was released. He struggled to fight his way up and lost as they held him down. His freedom was but a momentary thing. 

A metal yoke was strung along his shoulders, the leather collar hooked onto the clasp and holding it steady as they worked his arms into the wrist restraints. Each guard grabbed a bar and hauled him up onto his feet, shoving him towards the door. 

“Nobody has time for your bullshit today.” One of them warned him and gave him a boot to the ass to make sure he understood. “You give me one second of your lip...” He lifted up a long handled device, the two ends of it capped with a metal bulb. He brandished it in front of Hanzo's face as if just begging him to mouth off. “Now move.”

Hanzo bit back a comment and turned. He could see the other acquisitions being moved out single file. None of them were as restrained as him. Apparently the man he'd given the keycard to had not taken advantage of the moment to free himself. Maybe he'd been too afraid. Maybe he'd thought it wiser to wait for an advantage. Hanzo couldn't blame him. For all his escape attempt, he was standing in line with them as they were marched down the gang plank. 

The bright glare of the sunlight made him blink back and wince as it shone overhead. It seemed unfair to be looking out into such a beautiful landscape. The crystal clear waters lapped at golden sands, the palm trees swayed gently back and forth, giving the air of a calm, soothing tropical paradise. It wasn't right to be standing on the shore with a yoke around his neck, lined up along with the rest of the poor people who were going to be subjected to who knows what. 

Hanzo groaned as a guard stood by him. He watched the other walk up to talk to someone coming down the path, pointing to him in particular. ~That is probably not good.~ He watched three people continues onward, heading over to the others, each one armed with a taser and a flogger strapped to their belts. 

“You lot! Welcome to the rest of your lives. The length of that life is directly in proportion to the amount of effort you are willing to expend in keeping them! We expect a level of obedience, discipline and excellence at all times!” The woman speaking walked down along the beach, speaking to all of them and none of them at once. “Maintain these standards and you will be fed, housed, kept healthy and safe. Fall short, and you will be put out to pasture. Do not test me.” She waved her hand in the air, telling the rest of what appeared to be staff to round them up and get them on the move. Hanzo watched as the floggers came out, snapping at the exposed flanks of the people, driving them up through the path. 

The guard and the man he was speaking to were coming down towards him, talking. “Look if the boss wants him it's no skin off my nose. He picks a new one every so often. He'll be done with this one quick enough and we'll put him off to make profit like the others.” The man looked Hanzo over quickly. “Whats wrong with him?”

“Gave us some trouble on board. Got loose and killed David.

“Shiiiit.” He grumbled. “Mary's gonna be pissed.”

“Mary knows the risk of this line of work. Marricone will take care of it. He always does.” The man looked down and shook his head as he spied the tight chastity cage. “Cute gelding. Seems like his type. Alright get him set up in the stalls. I'll make sure the others know better than to play with the bosses new pony.” 

His withering glance could have shriveled the soul of these bastards if they ever had one to start with. A flogger snapped forward, catching him along the flank and driving him forward as Hanzo grunted and strained, shooting an evil glance at the man.

“Don't you give me that. Move!” he snapped and the flogger touched the thick flesh, making the ass jiggle in delightful ripples. 

Hanzo strained and walked forward slowly, taking in his surroundings once more. The failed escape attempt was going to cost him dearly. They'd have a close watch on him for a good long while before they lowered their guards again. He'd have to play the role in order to lower their defenses and get another chance.

For now, he was stuck. 

The flogger stuck him again, leaving it's sharp imprint on his flank and driving him forward on the yoke. He struggled to keep balance in the thick sand as they came up through the jungle area. Again and again the tendrils snapped and Hanzo yelped as it reddened the round bubble of his ass. He fell once, knees landing on the well trod path and the guard gave his hips and thighs a through lashing for it. “Hnnnhgh!” Hanzo shook is head baring down on his teeth and struggling to rise as his cheeks jiggled from the impact.

“I'll say this for him, he reddens up nicely.” The guard chuckled and popped him hard for dallying. 

Hanzo buckled under the hit and almost fell again, only just managing to get his feet under him as he was driven towards a large barn in the distance. He could only see his surroundings in passing, making out a smaller barn, a circle arena and what looked like a row a small, two person carts. He could see the other humans being hauled up and inspected before being pushed into the smaller barn. 

He was pushed into the enclosure. He was a fit man. The run had done nothing to wind him. But it was apparently they meant to fix that. In the middle of the arena was a large grinding stone, the kind used in old mills to pulverize the wheat down into flour. Extending from it was a leather harness affixed to a pole. 

“Now lets see if we can run some of that bad attitude out of you.” The guard took the yoke and hauled him over, working with one of his fellows as their new captive found some resistance in his muscles. “Settle down! Damn!” The cursed at him, wrestling him down and kicking up dirt as he protested the treatment. 

“I am not some plow beast!” Hanzo insisted, taking a rough hit before being locked up to the harness and shoved into position. He managed to steady himself and shook out his fury, glaring at the two men as if daring them to come back and fight him.

“Easy with those punches. Marricone doesn't want him hurt.” 

“Then Marricone can come deal with him.” The other man groaned and stretched his shoulders.

“Cowards! Both of you!” Hanzo growled and felt the flogger pop his ass again. “I will not...!”

“Can we put a bit in his mouth or something? I'm getting tired of listening to him bitch.” The guard said. “Besides, good ponies don't mouth off.”

“Marricone just said get him wound down till he gets here. So we're winding him down.” He pulled up the suede impliment and began to strike the captive man's ass with increasing fervor. “Come on. Pull!”

“To hell with you!” Hanzo roared and jerked as it cracked into his ass, leaving red stripes down the pretty flesh. Again, again! Oh it burned! He would not have thought something so simple could leave such a damning imprint! He grit his teeth, determined to weather through it. 

“”Here. Let me work his thighs a bit.” 

Hanzo let out a high yelp as the flogger struck his thighs, wrapping around the thigh muscles and pulling at the fine hairs. They worked him together, each one striking against the tender front of his thighs, the exposed ass end, his back and stomach as he jerked and swerved to avoid the blows. 

“I didn't know we'd caught a dancin pony.” 

Both men stopped their petty torment as Marricone came over, smoking a fresh cigar and dressed in simple jeans and a comfortable plaid top. He still had his boots and cowboy hat as he opened the pen and came over, lifting Hanzo by the chin to view him. “This'll go a lot easier on ya iffen ya learn ta play the game.”

“This is no game. I will not allow myself to be lowered...!”

“Seems this pony is a bit mouthy.” Jesse grinned and jerked a finger at one of the guards. “Go get me the kit. Then you two go take a break. I”ll handle Dragon.”

“My name is...!” A hand slapped down over his mouth, fingers digging down into his cheeks with firm control.

“Your name, is Dragon. And you'll get ta learnin it soon enough.” He warned in a dark tone as the men came back, dropping off a wooden box. 

“Be careful boss. He's got fight in him.”

“Don't I know it.” Jesse grinned and drug the box next to him, pulling a stool over as well so he could take a sit. “Now you need some trainin or you're gonna find yourself hard pressed to keep up around here. But don't you worry, Dragon. I've taken a likin to you.”

“Much to my dismay.” Hanzo snarled back and watched as Jesse opened the box and began to search through it.

“You'll be greatful of my help soon enough, more than you know, I'd wager.” He pulled out what he needed and Hanzo's eyes widened. A bottle of lubricant, a large ball gag, an anal plug with a long black tail of horse hair on the flange. “Now is this gonna go easy or hard?”

Hanzo reeled back on the pole, jerking around in the harness as he tried to get away.

“Hard it is then.” Jesse leered and took hold of the straps pulling the man to him. “Come on now. Shuuu. Ain't gone be as bad as you think.” His tone changed to soft, encouraging tones. “Come here. Come to Jesse. Awww you're cute when yer all scared. Come on now...” He pulled and Hanzo was hard pressed to dig his feet into the packed ground and resist. “Come on. You be gentle and I'll be gentle. Come on. There's a good pony.”

“I AM NOT YOUR PONY!” Hanzo roared and lunged forward to try and hit him again. Jesse was ready this time. He side stepped and grabbed Hanzo by the hair, jerking him back and kneeing him in the stomach. The man gurgled as it connected and whimpered in pain as he was hauled back up. 

“See now you're making me have to be nasty. I don't like playing it that way.” Jesse assured him as he got a hold on the ball gag. It was a struggle fitting it into the man's lips, Hanzo gnashing his teeth and fighting. He tossed his head as the fat red ball was pushed back, grating over his teeth and pushing his tongue down till it was so well set he couldn't dislodge it easily. Jesse's fingers worked fast, connecting the buckle and drawing it tight. “Maybe this'll help with your back talk.” He watched as Hanzo shook his head. Did the man realize how much he was behaving like an untried buck? 

Hanzo thrashed against the ball, trying to dislodge it. The object was just to one side of too large, pushing his jaw open to the point of discomfort. He tried to bite down but it was simply too firm, forcing him to drool around it instead. 

“Messy pony.” Jesse tsked and smacked his cheek with a playful touch. “Now don't go shootin me those devils eyes. You learn to keep a civil tongue in your head an maybe we won't need this.” 

The man's nasty glare turned soft as he saw the slick lubricant dollop down onto Jesse's fingers. “Nuuuh.” he pulled back, trying to get away. 

“Hush now. It's not gone be so bad.” Jesse cooed and walked around behind him, resting a hand on Hanzo's supple flank. He rubbed down, trying to calm him. “No need to make a fuss. You can't stop this. Best ta just ease into it.” 

Hanzo closed his eyes as the cold, wet fluid slicked up against his whorled hole. The cowboy pushed up slowly, his calloused hand breaching him with careful ease. “NuugH! NU!” He tossed and a calm, strong arm held him. “Nuuuughh!”

Jesse shushes him gently. “You're doin fine. First time is the roughest. I know.” He kissed the man's ear, cradling him back as he worked two digits in a little at a time. “Thats my good Dragon. We're getting there.”

He moaned despite his own best interests, feeling the press along his walls bribe his hole open. Jesse crooked and pushed deeper, and Hanzo made a little pant in his throat. His cock was trying to rise sluggishly, but the cage continued it's nasty confinement. The more he hardened, the tighter it grew. He didn't dare look down, but he could feel it swelling up in protest. “H-huugh! Uhgh!”

“I know. I know.” Jesse's voice had a note of amusement to it as he reached around and tugged at the balls, rolling them in his grip. “You're startin ta poke out through the slit.”

Hanzo gulped and saw there was no lie! In it's desperation to rise, he could see the pulsing twitch try and fail to free itself. The muscles bobbed up and down, struggling against the prison. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable sensation he had ever experienced! If he rocked away from the fingers, he pushed into Jesse's manipulations on his prick. If he tried to avoid that, he rocked back and encouraged his own finger fucking!

“There we go. Just about ready.” Jesse withdrew and wiped his hand off on a towel before picking up the plug. “Now this is gone take a bit a getting used to. But don't you worry. I'll keep an eye on you.” He squirted a generous amount on the fat end of the plug and smiled as he pressed it up to the pucker. “Deep breath now. Once the push starts we don't stop.” 

There was a sliding, spreading push against the ring. Hanzo held his breath, the meat of his thgihs quaking as it began to pull at the tension inside. “AHHGA!” He managed and arched back, unsure of this new sensation. “Nghghhg! Nuugh!”

“Thats a good pony. Come on. Good gelding.” Jesse kissed down his neck, pulled back a little, and worked it in again. Back and forth, little at a time, he pushed the toy inside, leaving the flage pressed up against the speared ass cheeks. He chuckled and pulled back, looking at the black horse hair tail swishing against those beautiful strong legs. “See? Not too bad.”

Hanzo was drooling, panting, beads of sweat of his forehead as he tried to find his balance. He felt so horribly stuffed! His hips ached as he shifted and groaned, not sure which grinding sensation was more infuriating. 

Jesse chuckled and checked him over, making sure the man turned pony wasn't hurt. “Alright. Lets put this pony to work.” Jesse picked up the flogger and took a firm smack at the exposed thighs, delighting as Hanzo freed a sharp bleat from his throat. “Haul!”


	4. Chapter 4

He did not want to move. His entire world was comprised of the soft pillow beneath his head, the blanket around his body giving him a cocoon of sleep. 

Fourty-eight hours. 

No food. 

No breaks.

No sleep. 

Just the grinding of the stone and his muscles screaming at him. The plug shifting and twitching inside his body, the swish of the tail against his thighs. He could still feel the red marks burning on his cheeks and thighs, even the faintest breeze stinging on his flesh. He moved cautiously, trying so very hard to ignore Jesse's gentle fingers rubbing salve against the thick stripes to sooth them.

“That wasn't so bad now was it?”

Hanzo said nothing. His jaw hurt far too much to try and respond. He blinked and laid his head down to the pillow, covering the wet stains on his cheeks. It was more humiliating to know that as he lie there, Jesse didn't seem to suffer the same exhaustion he did. The man had driven him like he fed off Hanzo's humiliation. The man didn't seem to need sleep or rest. He'd taken no breaks as he pushed his new pony, and Hanzo felt weakened by his endurance. 

“You're gonna take a rest. We'll get some food in you're belly. Won't that be nice?” Jesse encouraged and slid his hand up along the inner thigh. “A nice hot meal, a shower, and a long rest.” The cowboy soothed him in a calm, even voice, brushing his hair back as Hanzo lay limp. “You'll feel worlds better after...”  
“Why? S-so you can...start to break me again?”

A dark chuckle echoed in his ear and he felt Jesse's body run along his own. “I ain't fool enough to think you broken, Dragon. No it's gonna take a lot more to get you there. But I told you, this is about patience. Discipline. It won't happen overnight. But I think you're start to figure out who the boss is.” 

Hanzo groaned as fingers pushed into his open hole. He had gaped so easily after the plug had been held inside for such an extended time. He pushed his head down and shuddered, Jesse finding something within and poking at it gently. “Please.” 

“Hush now. Don't you worry. You ain't ready yet.” Jesse reassured him, petting down his back and sides, offering the tender affection along with his determined probing. He seemed to take great enjoyment out of Hanzo's sweet little whimpers, his hands resting on the man's belly to support his tired frame. “Hush now. There we go. Good pony.” 

“I...I am not...not a p-pp...” Hanzo let out a guttural growl as the man's strong fingers began to massage his pelvis, rolling little circles into the tight flesh. His cock throbbed with interest, begging for something to allow it release. “N-nuh. No!” he gasped and his own hands clung to the pillow.

“Shuuu. You did good work. I'm proud of you.” Jesse spoke to him, that feathery tone tickling his brain. “A good days work deserves a reward, don't you agree?”

“Huuuhnh!” Hanzo didn't resist. How could he? Even just the tension being stirred by this keen manipulation made him want to pass out. The pressure at both ends was so damn intoxicating he wondered if he'd be forced to humiliate himself by spilling. 

“There we go. Good pony. It's alright. Just releasing a little stress.” Jesse handled him easily. “Good pony. There's a good Dragon.”

~No! Nono! No!~ Hanzo gasped and burred his face in the pillows. Eyes shut, he knew he was humping back, his body a disobedient and petulant vessel. “Hanna! HA! HA!” He knew it was close. He was going to be forced into orgasm...!

Jesse's hands left his body and he flopped on the bed, blinking dumbly as the man stood and took a tray of food from someone. “Thank ya. I'm sure he'll appreciate it.” He walked over and saw Hanzo's frustrated body twitching without realizing it. It brought a grin to his face. “Did ya like that?” His response was a dark grumble. “Now it won't do to go playing around until you get some food in you.” He set down the tray on the edge of the bed. “Eat up.” 

Hanzo looked down into the bowl and his mouth watered at the scent. Thick beef stew with carrots and peas, a hearty chunk of good bread and iced tea. Honestly? He was a bit surprised they didn't carry this whole pony thing to it's fullest extent and give him oats. But his stomach was far too empty to complain. He went to grab the bowl...

“A-hem.” 

Hanzo paused. Oh god his stomach growled so ferociously.

Jesse smiled and looked down at him over the bridge of his nose. “Do good ponies use their hands?”

Hanzo scrunched his eyes shut. He wanted to curse the man till his beard singed, but god he was so hungry! He swallowed his pride so he could swallow his food and knelt down, catching a chunk of tender beef in his mouth and chewing it slowly. It tasted so wonderful! He dipped his lips into the bowl and drank easily, slurping up the rich broth. 

“Ain't broken. But yer learnin.” Jesse teased and began to stroke down his body, playing with the man's tender flesh. “Get a full meal. Then we'll let you take a rest and get to work tomorrow.” The warm stew set in his belly and felt such a deep sense of contentment as he lay down on the bed. His mind could only hold one thought at the moment, and that was entirely comprised of sleep. 

“Nighty night, Dragon. Sleep well.” Jesse chuckled and walked out of the stall, locking the coded door behind him.

If Hanzo heard the final words, the dark tone didn't register with him. He was already headed off into slumber. 

 

~~~

“No!” Hanzo wrestled with the handlers, hauling back, trying to jerk himself from their grip. The shower had been humiliating enough! Bound with his arms above him as they took a set of long handled, rough bristled brushes and scrubbed him till his skin was pink and sore. But this! This was BEYOND humiliation! “Do not touch me! Take your hands from me you wretched...”

“Is that my Dragon causin such a fuss?” Jesse tsked. “I thought we were at least past all this posturing.” He walked in across the tiles, approaching and lifting Hanzo's chin to make the man face him. “You giving my boys trouble?”

“I will not allow this to continue!” Hanzo insisted, not able to bring himself to plead for it to be stopped. In the grip of the handler was a hose with a large bulb attached, the hole of the fat plug dripping with water and lubricant. 

“We gotta keep ya nice and cleaned out for training. Easy now. It ain't gonna be as bad as ya think.” Jesse convinced him gently, petting the man's hair back. “I've shown how nice I can be, ain't I? Hot food? Warm bed. Plenty of rest. You even got a nice hot shower to help you calm down.”

“Calm down? They were trying to rub my skin off!” He barked back and gasped as a slap popped his face to one side. 

“Now you jus sound unappreciative.” Jesse took the hose and jerked his thumb for the handlers to head off. “Go take care of the other ponies.” he ordered and turned back to Hanzo. “You know, ya gonna make the others jealous. Is that it? Does my Dragon want all my attention to himself?”

“Ugggch. I would rather you jumped into the middle of the ocean than feel your touch on me again.” He gasped when Jesse's fingers touched his chest, toying with his nipples and tugging them playfully. “Hnn.” 

“You sure didn't seem ta mind last night.” The stern cowboy lifted the nozzel. “Now this can go easy or hard, but it's going in.” He made Hanzo look at the tip before turning him to face the wall. “Now how are we gonna do it?”

Hanzo winced. He couldn't run. He could not escape. He trembled and leaned forward, pushing his hips out towards the calloused hands. He bit his lip as his cheeks were spread, showing off the renewed tightness of his pink hole. “Do not...I...” He could not bring himself to beg, but he closed his eyes. “I have never done this.” he offered instead, a silent plea.

“Most havn't. Don't you worry. I don't wanna do anything to hurt you.” Jesse crooked the plug up against the hole and pushed it in slowly, letting the man's asshole encompass it as Hanzo gasped and took the girth within his body. 

“Y-you could have fooled me!” He whimpered as it spread him, landing with a solid pop against the walls and making him lean forward to bare the brunt of it's weight. 

“Un caballito terco nessesita una mano firme.” Jesse whispered in his ear, using his muscular arm to help support the man. 

“Una mano firme hace para un caballo obstinado!” Hanzo retorted in sharply accented Spanish. 

The man behind him blinked in surprise, then started to laugh so hard his belly shook. “Well! Nice to know I can train you properly.” He teased and secured the plug. “Didn't know Spanish was common in Japan.”

“It is not.” He tried to make himself relax around the invasive plug. 

“Care ta tell me how you speak it?”

Hanzo glared up at him. “Acaso es tan importante?”

“Si, muy importante.”

He debated whether or not he wanted to tell the man anything. He also didn't like how Jesse's hands rested on the faucet. One turn on the wrist and it would start. He shifted his hips uncomfortably, trying to adjust to this new sensation. “Mi padre me estaba entrenando para dirigir nuestra ... empresa familiar después de su jubilación, era importante saber hablar respetuosamente con nuestros socios extranjeros.”

“Ya veo. Tu papa tiene.... diversos intereses empresariales.” His voice was cautious, not trying to press into the private business of others. At the end of the day, it could end up a problem for him, especially of Hanzo's family might have some pull. Jesse's business wasn't a legitimate one. While cops or INTERPOL might be troublesome, someone who came looking for their son could end up a much bigger issue.

Hanzo was determined to use it. “Asustado, vaquero?” He said with the first touch of a smile he'd felt in weeks. He might not know if his father was dead or alive, but that didn't mean Jesse needed to know.  
Jesse's quiet grin extended, pulling up his cheeks as he turned the knob. 

The first trickle of water hit his insides and Hanzo winced, closing his eyes as he felt the liquid spread deeper. He did not know what to expect from this. He was unsure how to react. But as the first tempid drops began to push into his belly, he began to feel...odd. A few moments later hs stomach began to gain a kind of sloshy weight to it, and he tried to adjust his stance to ease it. “Nnnh.” he let out, swallowing and breathing out in a hot little pant. “Hhhhnnuh.”

“Dont' try to resist it. If you tense up, it'll only make the cramping worse.” Jesse warned him and turned the knob a bit higher before walking over. He pulled Hanzo up, adjusting his position so he would not be bent over at such a sharp angle. “Down on your knees. Abajo.” He commanded, letting the word linger in Hanzo's ear. 

He knelt down and the water began to flush into him with more force. “UUUGH! Nuuun! I...I can not.”

Jesse shook his head. “It's not a choice. I say down, I mean down. Easy now.” 

Hanzo spread his legs by instinct along, the push along his lower abdomen becoming increasingly heavy. There was the most distraught sensation of water filling him up, expanding his body into places he was not used to having touched. “C-cowboy!” he whispered. “J-jesse...stop!” 

“Are we on a first name basis now?” The man chuckled. “Come on there Dragon. You can do better than that. You ain't got more than a cup in ya.” 

He began to pant, trying not to tense and yet his muscles refused to obey. He groaned as the gurgling and popping began, followed earnestly by a sharp cramping along his hips. “I...I don't! Ouh fuck!” he groaned and looked up as his shoulders were held down, those thick fingers rubbing into the tense body. “I can not!”

“You can and you will.” 

“I can't!” He strained, teeth gnashing. It was starting to feel like someone had dropped a balloon in his belly, pumping deep past any kind of expansion he'd ever know. “I c-can't do this! M-make it stop!”

“Oh? Dónde está mi Dragon fuetre?” Jesse chuckled and turned the knob just a twitch more. “Easy now. We need you clean. Besides. I think this will take some of the bite outta you.” He caressed the man's ribs, petting him, soothing the bulging belly as the cramping began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRANSLATIONS
> 
> “Un caballito terco nessesita una mano firme.” = "A stubborn pony requires a firm hand."
> 
> “Una mano firme hace para un caballo obstinado!” = "A firm hand makes for a stubborn horse!"
> 
> “Acaso es tan importante?” = "Is it really that important?"
> 
> “Si, muy importante.” = "Yes, it's very important."
> 
> “Mi padre me estaba entrenando para dirigir nuestra ... empresa familiar después de su jubilación, era importante saber hablar respetuosamente con nuestros socios extranjeros.” = "My father was training me to run our ... family business after his retirement, it was important to know how to talk respectfully with our foreign partners."
> 
> “Ya veo. Tu papa tiene.... diversos intereses empresariales.” = "I see. Your father as...various business interests."
> 
> “Asustado, vaquero?” = "Scared, cowboy?"


	5. Chapter 5

He had been allowed to release on his own. That in and of itself was a blessing. He had been absolutly terrified that the cowboy would force him to go out around others to do his business. Not they were back in the training arena, the thick horsehair tail swishing against his thighs. He groaned now and again, trying to ease the gutteral pain by breathing with great caution.

Jesse walked over, holding a cane between his hands and giving it a few practice snaps so he could test the tension. “Now, it's about time we got you ta training.” He informed Hanzo with an air of confidence. “You've been pretty dang stubborn thus far. But I'm sure with time you'll prove to be a fine pony.” 

He was led over to the training arena, a simple pen with a sandy ground and an equipment shed near by. He was led into the yard with McCree giving his ripe cheeks a few taps on occasion, leading him into the center of the ring before pulling a few items out of the shed. “Now our guests expect a definitive level of obedience and excellent in our ponies. You need to achieve it. Heck with time you might even go above and beyond it. You seem determined enough.” He said as he set up the jumping poles, ensuring they were level and right about at waist height. “You need to learn the basic commands and whats expected when they're given. So we're gonna start simple. Walk.”

Hanzo gave him a dark glower past the bit in his mouth. Did the man this he was incompetent? 

“Ain't as simple as it sounds.” Jesse assured him with a chuckle. “You gotta learn how to feel like a pony, respond and react to orders with enthusiasm. Now that might prove difficult for you.” He lifted up a set of blinders and began to strap them on, affixing his gaze to whatever was directly in front of him. 

Hanzo shuddered, stepping back before the reins were tugged, bringing him up to the poles with firm direction. It was humiliating being led about like this! They had stepped up his bondage, his elbows hauled to a bar behind his back, his hands trapped by gloves that kept his fingers in a fist. Add onto this embarrassment the posture collar, his bit, the blinders...!

And of course, the ever present horse hair plug squeezed in between his cheeks. 

It was all too encumbering. He felt awkward, off balance. If he fell there would be no way to hold himself up. He was reliant upon Jesse's lead to put him where he was wanted. And that realization did not go unnoticed 

“Now, when you walk, your knees need to lift all the way up and tuck into your tummy as close as possible. You won't be able to manage this at a canter or a gallop, but it's a good way to get you introduced to the process.” He held his cane up at mid stomach. “Bring yer knee up to here.”

Hanzo hesitated, trying to shift his weight without loosing balance. He pulled up the knee and his body immediately tried to compensate by bending over.

THEWACK!

“HNUUUFF!” The man gasped at the thick strike against his thighs and gave Jesse a hateful glare.

“I said bring her knee up, not bend over.” He commanded, his voice becoming more determined. “You need to keep your posture upright. You're a pony. Gotta keep that proud look to ya.” He tugged the reins, making Hanzo stand up straight before giving him a tap across his chest. “Shoulders back. Back! Come on, there ya go! Upright!” He commanded, giving a quick smack to the man's exposed belly. “Upright, like this. Head up. Head up or I'll reinforce that posture collar.” 

Hanzo gurgled, lifting his chin, again limiting his scope of vision. He couldn't even see the pole now. 

“Now you keep yourself upright. Parate bien.” He commanded and gave a few sharp swats of the cane to make him get it through his head. It seemed to amuse him how Hanzo jerked and twitched. “Come on. Come on come back to it. Whatever happens you come back to this position! Parate bien! Parate bien!”

Hanzo balked, pulling back and yelping painfully as the cane caught his thighs. He shook his head and the reins were tightened, bringing him back to position.

“Upright.” Jesse reminded him and used the tip of the cane to direct him back where he was told. “Right like that. Hold. There ya go. Good pony.” He stroked the man's hair gentle. “Now, lift that leg to the cane. Camina. Walk.” 

Hanzo gurgled something unsavory but tried to balance and lift his leg up without scrunching over. He wobbled as he tried to do so slowly and gasped when the cane popped his ass. 

“What is this? Huh?” Jesse challenged himgiving the man's hip a few quick smacks. “You're poking your knee out like you're trying to knock someone else over. Come on. Straight up, straight down.” He ordered and made Hanzo start from the first position again. Upright, shoulders back, do it again. He was looking for a straight up, straight down movement. Knee to the pole and back down with direct, steady steps. 

It was much harder than it looked. Hanzo managed to bring it up and down awkwardly, only to have Jesse swat at his other leg. 

“You don't walk with one leg, caballitio! Use both! Camina! Camina!”

Hanzo growled out and groaned as he tried to switch his legs at the speed and height being demanded of him! He considered himself to be in good shape, but by the first twenty his thighs were starting to burn down into the muscles. Every time he moved the plug seemed to roll, stretching his ass with firm dedication to it's cruel work. Another cane swat told him Jesse had no intention of letting him stop! He began to sweat as the cane told him to quicken his step with it's sharp snap against his under thigh. Faster, faster! Hanzo yelped when a hard crack took him forward and he shook his head.

“You're doing good. Come on now. There we go. Walk. Walk. Whoa.” Jesse ordered and finally took the reins, putting a large, warm hand on his knees and letting his find his stance again. “Whoa now. There we go. Not too bad.” He ran his fingers through the black and grey hairs, soothing his pony with a few gentle pats. “Deep breath.” He removed the bit and brought a canteen to Hanzo's lips, letting the cold, crisp water flow into his mouth. He allowed the man a good long drink before pulling it away and tucking the bit back between his teeth. “Alright. Now we're gonna do it double time. Canter. Trote!”

Faster. Harder. Pull the knees up, keep his back straight! Focus forward! Shoulders back, knee up, keep it going. Faster, faster! Trote, caballito! Trote! Hanzo whined as Jesse made him tap the pole with his knees every time till hish thighs hurt and there were divots in the sand from where he'd slammed his feet down. Jesse drove him hard, pushing him till he thought his legs might fall off! If he lost a step, the cane was a sharp reminder that mroe was expected. If he paused he felt the thick crack of it made a red stripe on his ass. If he started to loose balance he could only screech behind the bite as Jesse put the beating to his thighs until he righted himself!

“Alright push. Come on. Come on. Keep those knees up. Keep going. Push!”

Hanzo groaned and his eyes rolled back. The plug. That fucking plug! It was shoved up so damn deep and as Jesse put him to keep a faster pace, it kept moving and grinding up along his insides. He drooled helplessly, running faster, trying not to focus on how sore and puffy his asshole felt as the plug tucked up snugly into him. He had to keep focus. If he kept focus it'd be over soon enough! It had to be! How long could Jesse push him!

“Keep your eyes on your work.” Jesse commanded and swatted him again. “A good pony focuses on the task he's set.” He kept Hanzo moving until the man had a bright sheen of sweat on his skin. He pulled the reins, chuckling to himself as Hanzo sucked in a breath of air and haunched over, exhausted. “Okay. Husha now. Shuuuu.” He brushed down the man's back, treasuring the wet slickness on his finger tips. “You did good. There's my pretty pony. You did real good for a first timer.” His voice was dropped from the harsh command and back into that cajoling, gentle tone. “And when my ponies do a good job, they get a reward.”

Hanzo whined as the plug was slid loose, leaving his hole pink and open to the world. He tried to turn around but the blinders blocked his view! The cowboy pulled up behind him, dragging a stool over and switching the reins behind his head and Hanzo gurgled as warm fingers tucked into the raw pucker. “Nuuugh! N-nuh!” he shook his head, bucking a challenge. The reins drew tight and hauled him back as Jesse kicked his legs open and bent him forward. 

“Relax. Come on now. You been such a good pony, don't go ruining it.” The fingers crooked deep and found the pressure spot, pushing down and rolling it easily.

A shot went through Hanzo and his mouth fell open, drool plopping onto the sands. That...that just wasn't fair! He shook his head and tried to kick, but Jesse avoided the foot. Hanzo felt a tightness constrict his balls and yeowled as his testicles were pulled sharply away from his body. “NYYYYYY! Nyyyyhihhhhihihi! Nuh! Nuh!” he gasped as Jesse chcukled.

“I'm tryin ta give you a reward here and you're ruining my work.” He warned, squeezing them hard and enjoying how Hanzo whimpered helplessly in his grip. “I know. That cock cage is an awful thing eh? You know the more you behave the more likely it is you'll get some time free of that thing.” Jesse ground his thumb down into one ball, pushing into the tender flesh till Hanzo's back arched and the man howled out in a high voice. “Now you gonna behave? Huh?”

Hanzo closed his eyes and nodded quickly. His balls were allowed to fall back into positon before the fingers crooked back within his body, probing at his insides with determination. Soon enough his cock began to ache, pressing to the walls of it's confinement and poking out through the slits. It was a miserable sensation. He pushed himself to ignore it, but it was like a sore muscles, demanding all his attention as it squeezed his cock painfully tight. “Nnnuh! Nhhhhhn! Hnhnhnhnhnhnhn!!” His voice sounded so weak, so pathetic! Jesse was as relentless in this reward as he was in his training. A third finger poked into him and Hanzo's body took the stretch easily, letting the ring pull open for more. ~Oh please! Please!~ 

Jesse could measure the tension clenched around his fingers and began to move them in and out, stroking the plush walls. “Thats a good pony. You know I'm not to keen on the thought of our guests gettin to enjoy this pretty hole a yours before I do.” he grinned and hualed back on the reins, using them to make Hanzo rock back on the stretch. The high warble that escaped the man's throat was perfection and he drank it in easily. “But it just don't do to be a selfish boss. I can't keep you all to myself forever.” He sighed and began to piston the fingers, watching Hanzo's muscles stand out in magnificent definition. “We all make sacrifices. But don't you worry, Dragon. I won't put you out with the others till I've gotten a chance to ride that pretty ass for myself.”

It was a threat and a promise. Hanzo shuddered as his prostate was manipulated, his cock leeking clear precum in sad drops. It had been so long! They had been tormenting his body, keeping him phsyically exhausted and confined for what felt like ages! And this bastard son of a whore had edged him to the brink only to refuse him orgasm! He knew it was not going to be plesant. How could it be when his prick was shoved into this hateful cage? It also wasn't going to be avoidable! Hanzo gurgled and drooled, sobbing out as Jesse's fingers milked his hot prostate. He could feel his brain shutting down, his frame straining and bucking back into it without his permission. If Jesse stopped, put him on the edge again he'd die! He knew it!

Jesse was whispering in his ear. “What a good pony boy. Thats it. there's my pretty Dragon. You see what behaving gets ya? Huh? Good pony. Good Dragon. What a good boy.” He rammed his finfgers in to the palm and took control with wet, hard determination. “Let go. Come on now. Let go and let it happen. It's gonna be such a good release.” He practically had Hanzo strung out across his lap by this point, sitting back on the stool to manage his failing posture. Out of nowhere the poor creature let out a painful, but relieving shriek and his entire body seized up tight as a vice. Jesse chuckled as a hot splash jetted out over his blue jeans and delighted at the uncontrolled shudders that slowly let Hanzo fall from the high. The man went limp across his lap, Jesse petting his back slowly as he extracted his fingers from the loose hole. “That was pretty damn well done.” He smiled and fished the plug from his pocket. “But ya know, I don't think this is gonna fit you anymore. Look like you're due for an upgrade in equipment."


	6. Chapter 6

He was in deep, deep shit.

For a while a routine had begun to establish itself. In it's own odd way it was reassuring to know that there was some kind of control established here. A regime allowed veryone the ability to fall into line and keep their place, even if it wasn't a place you really wanted to be in. 

8:00 a.m: Wake up call.   
8:30 a.m: Breakfast.  
9:00 a.m: Morning exercise.   
10:00 a.m. Morning clean up. 

The clean up was something he was slowly getting used to, despite the humiliation of it. Every day there were given a quick enema to ensure their bodies were prepped for the use of those horse tail plugs. It wasn't deep, just enough so that they could hold the plug wihtout incident. Once a week, or apparently whenever a guest came to 'rent' a pony, a full enema could be applied so that the ponies were ready for all manner of work.

Hanzo was at least somewhat greatful that he was not set out to work with the others yet. Jesse simply didn't think he was ready. Or the cowboy was becoming posessive of him. Either way, he did not envy the poor bastards being rented out. 

By 11 they were set up for training. And it was here that he had made his grave mistake. For a while now, Jesse had been the only one to train him. But the cowboy was still the boss of this outfit, and managing an errant pony took up a healthy chunk of his day. Three times now he'd set his 'Dragon' up with some of the other handlers while he went to go and do his business. And three times, Hanzo had proven to be a difficult pony.

Hanzo hated to admit it, but Jesse had made himself accessible. Not that Hanzo wanted to access the man, but the cowboy had a ntural ease to his methods. He was firm, he pushed and challenged, but he always seemed to know just when to draw back. He priased when Hanzo achieved and offered his rewards when his pony impressed. It was strange, and dehumanizing, but Hanzo felt that he could trust the man to hold those reins tightly. 

He did NOT like the other handlers. They were loud, grabby, and far too quick with their tazers. With Jesse, you obeyed because he would reward your efforts, appreciate your dedication. With these assholes you obeyed because of what they would do if you fell short. They had not forgotten Hanzo's escape attempt on the ship, and they weren't keen on forgiving him for their dead friend.

That was just fine. Hanzo didn't have any intention of being forgiven. 

The first two times they'd dealt with him themselves. Jesse hadn't much liked the volley of red stripes marking him from shoulder to ankle, but he'd put his faith in his men to train a stubborn pony. He wasn't going to call their methods into question just because he'd developed a fondness for his Dragon. 

But the third time, Hanzo knew he'd pushed too far.

Jesse had called it reconditioning, a means of bringing particularily stubborn ponies to heel. No more playtime, no more gentleness. If Hanzo couldn't show the behaviors needed to be a good, reliable pony, than he would be removed of the privledges of being human. 

The arm bonderes held his shoulders so far back that his shoulders ached. The harness clung to his skin, holding him tightly, presenting him like a toy in leather straps. Jesse's 'upgrade' left him straining, whimpering as the fat head of the plug drove into him. The cowboy squeezed the bulb and Hanzo kneeled as it inflated, filling up every centimeter of space availible. He shook his head, tossing and bucking as the reins were tugged back and the final piece of this humiliation was brought to his attention. A black horse muzzle, the bit shoved back into his teeth while the new blindfold made him utterly dependant upon another to lead him around. 

Jesse tugged him forward, making Hanzo stumble over the new two inch high horse boots. “Forward. Forward.” He commanded in a harsh tone, snapping the cane into the man's ass cheeks when he didn't obey fast enough. Where was the soft tone, the encouraging voice that drew him in, pushed him obey without even having to try? Gone in favor of wrangling in the stallion he'd bought. 

Hanzo's attention was brought aright back where it belonged. He drooled as it hit again and again, making him whimper till he found the pace Jesse had set to run him around the ring. He could barely balance in the thick sand and the high boots! Every time he started to trip he was forced forward. If he tried to pull back the cane popped and he was left with a new red stripe. Run. Run. Run! Faster! Push till his lungs burned and his legs ached and he thought his ankles might snap!

The day was far from over. Jesse pushed him to obey, driving him forward with commands, one after the other. “Canter! Canter! Move it!” 

Hanzo shrieked as something feirce and buring popped into his thighs, sending a jolt of electricity through him! He stopped, trying to pace himself again. This time the jolt hit him right in his testicles and Hanzo screamed, falling to the sands. He was given the briefest second to rise before another shock blistered into his balls, leaving his twitching in the dirt. ~Please! I...oh god! Please I do not know what you want!~ He mewled through the gag, sand on his tongue. He felt tension on the reins as he was drug up and righted. He could feel Jesse's fingers yank back his hair and get him back into position. 

“Upright! Come on! You didn't have any problems when you were tryin to bite my handlers now did you?”

Another shock and Hanzo was rheeling. His world was the inky blackness behind his mask. He was dizzy and disoriented, and his balls were starting to burn! ~Please! I...I...~ He howled when the cattle prod touched him and his body seized up, barely able to stay on his feet. He was being run into the ground! 

“You think yer done huh?” Jesse's face was close, close enough to feel the man's breath in his cheek. “You're a long way from done, pretty pony. A long damn way.”

Hanzo shook as another pop caught him off guard, snapping right above his pelvis. 

“A stubborn...”

“HNNNUGH!”

“...proud...”

“NUUUGHAAA!” Hanzo gasped, shaking his head and trying so hard to think past his exhaustion. 

“...bad pony.” Jesse sounded so dissapointed in him as he let the cracks force the muscles into obediance. “Who needs to understand his place. What is it yer thinkin on doing, huh? You gonna keep kickin and fighting the whole way? You knew what happens to ponies who don't get broke and get right?” 

Hanzo dared a guess, and it was not a plesant one.

“I paid a lot fer ya, Dragon. And I've wasted a lot of time tryin ta get you settled. If you don't start showing improvement soon, once of three things is goin down. Either you straighten up and learn, I sell you off cheap to recoup losses, or the boys have ta put ya out ta pasture.” He didn't sound pleased about the last two options at all, but willing to carry them out if it came down to it. “Upright. Upright.” He took the leash and tugged Hanzo forward, leading him out of the ring. 

Hanzo could do nothing but follow, barely keeping on his feet, still trying to manage these shoes.

“This is the last chance.” Jesse whispered to him. “You're gonna show me what a good pony you can be.”

Hanzo was whipped around. He knew somehow that others were watching as his legs were kicked apart, Marricon's body provided him with some sense of balance. He panted as the plug was tugged firmly, leaving his hole with a loud pop. “Nnugh!”

“I know. But you're gonna settle up, ain't ya?” 

That voice in his ear almost drowned out the sound of a belt buckle being undone. Hanzo felt his heart in his throat as a zipper pulled down. 

“Behave.” Jesse warned in a dark growl and hauled the reins back. “After ta-day, the other handlers are gonna start keepin you in line. The guests are gonna take notice of ya. I can promise that much. But I'll be damned if I let your first shot go to anybody else.” 

Hanzo shuddered as the thick cock head arched up against the split of his cheeks. He was groaning, panting behind the gag, as the fat head caught the ring and pushed it open, grinding and sliding up into his hole. “GUUURGGGCK! OUHH! Huuuuu! HU! Hu! HU!” The plug had been exhausting, but at least it had stayed still for the most part! Jesse pushed indeep, the rough grinding against his walls causing the most breaking friction! His nerve ending fired off, stimulated by the rough in and out drag of the man's cock. He could hear laughter from others. This was a display. He was showing to the handlers who really held the control here. Hanzo had been bucking about for too long. And a boss didn't hold onto his position for long if his underlings started doubting him.

The next thrust knocked the wind out of him! OUH the stretch! Hanzo groaned as his ass took the rough, unrestrained movements. Every movement made him quiver. The wet smacks made his ass jiggle. Hanzo could feel the tension in his body driving him to loose. Oh god. God how long since he'd had release? How long ago had Jesse let him cum? He couldn't remember. He couldn't think! 

“Settle down now.” Jesse chuckled, jerking him back into it. “See boys? All it takes is a steady hand.” He groaned, enjoying the hot squeeze around his cock. The handlers could have been a million miles away. “Such a good pony.” He growled into Hanzo's ear and peeked down. “Well well now.”

“He's gettin hard!”

“Look at that! Lil slut just needed a nice fat cock up his ass!”

Jesse took a peek and grinned to himself. Sure enough, that cock was shoved up against the cage, sore and pulsing. “Whaddaya think boys? Let 'er loose to play?” There was a resounding boo and hiss from the gathered crowd. Jesse gave a low growling cackle. “Sorry, Dragon. Gonna have ta keep you right here a bit longer.”

Hanzo shook like a leaf. Oh gods. He wasn't going to last any longer! He couldn't! His body was over heated and exhausted! His hole ached. His cock! Oh fuck his cock was going to burst! “HEASH! Heash heas! H-huhessah!” He cried out the man's name, growling over the bit, trying not to let himself pass out. It felt...oh god. Oh god it was so wrong for it to feel this good! Jesse's rough hands were so warm and bracing. He growled against it but his cock strained. It didn't matter if his mind had accepted this. His body was far more adaptable. 

Jesse rode him hard, driving his cock up to the balls, enjoying the way it held him with such determination. “You know, I gotta admit. You're one a the fiestier ones I aquired. But hoo-boy! Just look at what a good lil pony you are now.” He grabbed the man by the throat, groaning hotly in his ear. “Taking my cock like the whore you are.” 

The man whined and tossed. He couldn't take it anymore! Hanzo widened his stance and pushed back, taking what little control he could and letting the cock slide in. He couldn't help himself. It was so thick, so warm! He was pulsing, his body caving into Jesse's prick. He didn't care! If he was going to be stuck like this by god he was going to fucking cum! 

“There's a good boy! There my good Dragon!” Jesse snarled, slamming into the eager hole. “Do it! Come on! Thats it. Ride it! Ride it!” 

The handlers were clapping, mocking the poor creature as they cheered on their boss. 

Hanzo didn't care. All he could think about was that throbbing secret Jesse had introduced him too. His world was the pulsing of that cock up his ass and Jesse's growls in his ear. 

“Thats it! Thats it!” Jesse reached down and undid the lock, wrangling the cock cage from Hanzo's sore prick. 

Hanzo screamed. His cock popped up, bobbing up and down in it's strained freedom! “Uuugh! UHGG! Uhuh!UH! Huhuhuhuhu! HU!” 

“Good boy! Good pony!” Jesse howled.

Everything faded out and Hanzo felt the shot of hot jizz spill from his insides, balls twitching. He felt all strength drain from him, the first real orgasm he'd experienced shoot off too quickly, leaving him helplessly needy for a more satisfying high. He made himself push back. Searching out that demanding press as the cock beat against him. ~Cum! Oh cum! Oh cum! Please! PLEASE!~ 

Jesse groaned and pushed, kissing up along the man's neck. He gave up all pretense and grabbed Hanzo by the hips, digging his fingers into the thick flesh and slamming up. He adored every shriek and whimper. “Fells good huh? Huh? There's my good Dragon.” He kissed Hanzo's cheeks. “Don't you worry my pretty pony. I got a hold of you.” 

Hanzo knew he was crying. He didn't care. He didn't give a damn. His prostate was tingling with heat! Little sparks swam in the darkness behind his eyelids. He didn't give a damn! He was just a poor pony chasing the rush of an orgasm for whatever relief it could offer. It hit him hard as Jesse tucked his balls up to the hole and left the rush of jizz in his ass. Hanzo whimpered, trying to push the cock back in. 

“Now now. You'll get plenty from here on out.” Jesse said as he withdrew, watching the thick cum ooze from the open hole. “Alright boys, get him plugged and back in the stalls. We'll start em working the rounds tomorrow.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEY!! ARE YOU ENJOYING BIT & BRIDLE? 
> 
> DO YOU WANT A CHANCE A TO WIN A 2.5K OR 5K FIC FROM ME? 
> 
> http://geekinglikeaboss.tumblr.com/post/163934777640/geekinglikeaboss-fic-raffle
> 
> I'm running a fic raffle during the month of August 2017 to try and get a little spare cash together. Summer is always kind of a rough time for us. And I know a lot of people out there want to commission fics but don't always have the cash to do so. This is a good way to get a decent one-shot fic on the cheap. Tickets are $1 a pop and I use a Random Number Generator to pick the winner! 
> 
> I'll write for any fandom, any ship. I'll write most kinks and fetishes. 
> 
> I WON'T WRITE:  
> #1: No underage NSFW. I will write hand holding, kissing, sitting on a blanket under the stars and contemplating life. If you wanna age up the characters to be adults thats fine. But always keep NSFW 18+.  
> #2: No scat or vomit. No race-play. I will NOT waver.  
> #3: No beastiality. I waver a tiny bit for sentient werebeasts and teratophilia.

:An excellent pony is appreciated, adored, and respected. A poor pony has little use outside of a workload. So really, the decision is up to you. What kind of a pony do you want to become?:

Jesse's voice drowned out through, purring in his ear with that sweet drawl that brought him a sense of contentment. The mans philosophy continued, speaking on the merits of being a proud but obedient horse, how it benefited him, and how well he could be treated when he proved himself. Dragon groaned, blind to everything but that voice, holding him captive with such ease he didn't even try to struggle.

He was long past the point of knowing what day it was, much less caring. His world was the bondage, the plug, the hood and the cart. Oh yes. Jesse had decided it would be best for his Dragon's temperament if he was put to work the way he should have been, serving the clients of this island. He hadn't sounded pleased about it. More to the point he seemed gruff and particular, citing that his pony was a rough sort, better suited for someone who had the experience to handle him properly. He was picky about which clients he let take Dragon for the day, and even then he didn't seem to like it. 

Or maybe the pony was being too smug about his self worth. 

He tried to convince himself to let it drop. Did it really matter that, no matter who had ridden him or used him that day, Jesse always came to give him a brush and a treat at the end of the day? He probably did that for the other horses, didn't he? And surely he couldn't be the only one who Jesse talked to softly, petting and guiding him back to his stall with a firm patience. No. It would be better not to dwell over it. He was one pony in a stable of many. 

But with Jesse's voice in his ears, could he really pretend to ignore this?

They still didn't trust him. He had to prove himself from the ground up by showing total domestication, kneeling to whatever was demanded of him. Dragon was too pretty to go unworked for too long. If he counted by the times he had been ridden it must have been at least ten days, maybe a few more or less. They took the ear buds out when he had a rider so that he could obey their commands quickly. But the moment he was returned the conditioning program was restarted, giving him the comfort of that smooth, patient voice in his brain, dulling his other senses. 

He began to recognize different formulas from those who rented him. Some were more interested in what they could do to him to amuse themselves for the hours he was under their power. When the bit was removed from his lips he knew now that it behooved him to open his mouth wide and accept the hard, grinding length as deep as it could be pushed. If the plug was tugged from his anus, Dragon knew to spread his legs and bend forward, presenting himself with willingness. They were rarely gentle, and more often than not they cared very little as to any pleasure he might take from it. Sometimes he could be pushed to howl and drip from his cage like the gelding they'd made him into. Sometimes not, and it always seemed to make Jesse happier when he could tell how frustrated and needy his Dragon was at the end of the day.

Any time someone rent Dragon, Jesse would wash him off, stroke his body till he trembled and whined, and then fuck him till he had no choice but to cum screaming on the hardy cock. Cock cage or not, it depended entirely on Jesse's mood, his prostate would be pounded and rubbed as he panted and lost all sense of self. 

“My pretty Dragon.” Jesse's possessive tone rang in his ear. “Mine.”

There was something in the air today that told him things were different. Jesse came to help get him ready. The blindfold was removed, and he stood blinking, trying to get used to the light. Jesse's frown was stern on his face and he could sense a nervous tension to the man's stance. Dragon made a gruff sound and pushed his forehead to Jesse's hand, begging for attention. 

His reward was a deep chuckle and a stroking down his neck. “There's my good pony. Now I need ya on yer best behavior today, Dragon. I'm puttin my faith in ya ta do better.” He folded up the hood and put it in his back pocket. Dragon opened his mouth quickly for the bridle to be slid in and turned without a word, leaning over so he could be cleaned and plugged. “There we go. There's my pretty Dragon.” Jesse's voice was like maple syrup on his mind. “Now I'm not gonna be puttin ya to bed tonight.”

Dragon whimpered and looked over his shoulder. 

“I know. I know. But I got a special guest coming. Requires me personal attention. Don't you worry. If the boys tell me you handled yerself well, I'll make sure you get a special treat.” He rubbed the pony man's cheek as he pushed the nozzle in, giving it a squeeze so the water bubbles up into Dragon's belly. He reached around and rubbed the tummy gently, helping him take it in. “This ones gonna be easy on ya today. He's more interested in playing than anything else.” He added another bulb full and watched his pet moan, trying to change his stance to accept the filling. Another bulb and he made the pony hold it before releasing him to push it out. 

Dragon cried out softly as the plug replaced it and held tight. He gave Jesse soft, compliant eyes and leaned in, mouthing Jesse's throat wordlessly. 

“I know. I know. You'll do good. You've improved so much. I know ya had it in ya baby.” Jesse tilted his head up and kissed the lips, tugging on the bit to get him back into position. “You like it when I come and fuck you?”

Dragon felt his stomach flip over and nodded hurriedly. 

“You like it when I make you my pony?”

He whimpered and tried to kneel, only to be sharply pulled back up.

“Keep showing me you can be good. We'll see where to go from there.” Jesse gave him one more peck before straightening his britches and heading out the door, Dragon in tow to be turned over to the client for the day. Jesse gave him a wink before heading off to the house. Dragon could see a tall, broad shouldered man with a few scars on his face standing there. He had a stance to him that seemed confident, and he eyed the place like he was inspecting it.

“Gabriel! Estas bien, Jefe?”

Dragon quirked his head before he was pulled around by a man who stood a head taller than him, petting his face with a smile. 

“Such a handsome gelding. My my I do like it when they're pretty.” He stroked Dragon with the back of his hand, smoothing his hair back before nodding to the handler. “Yes. I think I'll have him pull the cart for the day. Just a nice ride, a scenic tour. If I like him I might rent him again tomorrow for something more intimate.” 

Just a cart pull? Dragon let the nervousness go out of his muscles. He could do that well enough. He knew now how to step into the harness and let it be tugged up around his body, holding him stiffly between the pulls. He was not a fan of the leather corset, more because it was hot and peeled when it was removed. But he knew it was a part of the look they wanted to achieve and looked splendid with the posture collar. All of it kept him upright and in position, a proud and prim gelding for their guests. He did not like the boots either, especially on a trail. But he was getting used to them now that supports for his ankles had been added. 

What Dragon wanted did not matter. He understood that now. Good behavior was rewarded. Bad behavior was punished. Good behavior meant Jesse's attention and affection. That mattered.

Dragon watched the man choose a cattle prod as his instrument of discipline. The handlers only let a client take one so they didn't overdo it. He didn't know all of what clients could or couldn't get away with, but he knew that if there were marks or damage that put a pony out of commission for a while, the client had to pay extra. So far, he'd heard nothing of anyone going so far as to permanently damage one of the horses. 

He sincerely hoped it was something that had never occurred.

A pop from the prod made him jump and he pushed his hooves down into the dirty, flexing his muscles and making himself move forward. The first few steps were always the most difficult, but once he got the cart started he could keep it going for a while. Dragon grunted and strained and managed well enough, getting the thing going as they moved away from the stables and out down the dirt road. About a hundred paces from the stables were a series of trails. The client pulled the reins to one side, directing him which path to take.

“Come on now. I want to see how well trained you are.” 

Dragon humphed and pulled, pacing himself carefully. He'd been down through here before. It took them close enough to the beach that he knew they'd have to tread sand. He hated dragging the damn cart through sand. It sucked down at his feet and exhausted him for anything the client might have prepared later. None the less, he pushed himself to do well. Even if this left his sore and exhausted, he could think of Jesse's hands petting him, that voice praising his hard work. That beautiful, hardy cock fucking him cross eyed. 

The client wasn't much of a talker beyond giving him orders and occasionally popping him with the cattle prod to make him loose pace. Dragon grumbled to himself but tried to be grateful that he wouldn't have to service today. He tried to listen to the waves in the distance and the birds in the trees. How could a place be such paradise and such hell in the same moment?

He could hear something happening ahead of them and shrugged it off. It wasn't like they only got one client a day. It wasn't unusual to see another pony serving on the trail. 

“Well now, thats a fine looking stallion.”

Dragon looked over briefly just out of curiosity and froze in place, eyes widening. 

Jesse stood there, blinders on, bit tucked back in his lips. His arms were neatly corseted behind his back, and the plug pushed up to the hilt was the same deep brown of his hair. His soft, pliant moan echoed and his head tilted upwards to the man who held the reins. The same man from the porch stood above him, smiling down at him and talking to him in a dominant tone. He tugged at the reins and Jesse rose without hesitation. Shoulders back, chest out, legs spread, he was in perfect position as a crop teased down his chest. Jesse crooned through the bit and his hips gyrated, showing off the thick red prick that stood at attention.

The man smirked and tapped it with his crop, watching the sore cock bounce up and down with enthusiasm. "There's my pretty Rustler. And here I was starting to worry you'd lost your edge." The tone was teasing, pushing his pride just enough to suggest that he wouldn't have been so amused if Jesse had fallen short. “Come on, head higher. Good. Show off for me. I know you want to. Still such a proud pony.” This time he brought down the crop with force, watching to see if Jesse flinched. 

The man held, groaning sharply as his teeth ground down into the bit, nostrils flaring. 

“There's my Rustler. There's my stallion.” He growled and caught Jesse's lips in a kiss, not seeming to mind the drool. When he pulled back his strong fingers were clasping the shaft, jerking him up and down with a hard grip. Jesse whined but his position did not change. He panted and trembled, but did not balk. The man squeezed and Dragon could see the fat of the cock bulge out as Jesse's chin lifted and the whine met his ears. “You still like it rough. Good.” His dark eyes were almost predatory. “I gotta make sure you stay well trained.”

Hanzo yelped as the cattle prod touched his thigh and the client chuckled. “I think we've intruded on them enough, don't you?” He clicked and snapped the reins. “Lets get going and leave them to their games. I've got a few of my own in mind for you.”

That evening, as Hanzo lay down in his cot, he stared at the fans on the ceiling and contemplated what he had seen. It was like a wake up call, a realization that shook his new found contentment in what he'd been turned into. The scene repeated in his brain, swimming before his eyes as he memorized every detail. The sheen of sweat matting Jesse's body hair. The exact shade of red his cock had been when the man named Gabriel has smacked it brutally. The way Jesse had taken it with such strength and spread his legs to accept what he was given. It was like he had been proud of his submission, his ability to endure. 

The image rooted itself there and stayed, and Hanzo began to realize he'd played obedient long enough.


	8. Chapter 8

He waited. 

He wasn't too worried about getting caught. Mostly because he had no intention of escaping. Where would he go? If he was discovered gone by morning, they would send out guards to search for him. Hanzo didn't much relish the prospect of having to start over on his training from scratch. Assuming of course that they didn't' just decide to 'put him out to pasture'. 

He was risking everything by making this choice. And it wasn't a fact he was oblivious to. Still, determination clung to him like fog to the ground. He slipped up the stairs, holding the bag of smuggled goods and trying to keep the clinking of it quiet. There were only two or three guards, and they sat around a table downstairs drinking beer and playing cards with the tv droning on in the background. 

<...with the police now looking into the case. Reports are limited but rumors circulate that the head of the Shimada clan, Sojiro Shimada, has been found dead, the marks of the rival Yakimada group apparent in the crime scene. This follows the suspected arson case of the pachinko parlor which was thought to be the headquarters for the Shimada operations. Neither Hanzo, nor his younger brother Genji has been seen in over three months...>

Hanzo felt his heart drop into his chest. Everything swirled around him as he tried to steady his nerves and focus. This...this was an entirely unexpected development! To hear everything confirmed, his worst fears now suddenly possible! Hanzo put a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes. His father was dead. He knew that now. And Genji! God what if Genji had returned? What if he had been in the pachinko parlor? What if...

He took a deep breath and bit his tongue, trying to make himself think. No. If Genji's body had been found and identified, they would have said something about it. The would not have claimed him as missing. Sojiro was dead. He...he had known that was an eventuality. They would not have risked keeping him alive. It did not seem like the police were concerned over the location of himself and his brother. Why would they be? Far more likely for them to focus on taking down the Yakimada group. 

The worst of it? Nobody was going to come looking for him. 

The best of it? If it had been three months, than Genji had to have heard the news and was playing it smart for once, steering clear of Japan until he could figure out a good move. Even better? If the guards were listening to a Japanese news cast, then they couldn't be that far from Japan! But then why had they floated around for a damn week? Just to confuse everyone? Where was most likely? 

Hanzo heard a chair scraping back and ducked back into the hallway, away from the kitchen and dining room. He was loosing focus. He'd come here with a purpose. Everything else could wait. 

But he would remember it. 

This felt like deja vu. In nicer surroundings and minus the sea sickness. Not to mention he wasn't intending to hold Jesse hostage. 

Up the stairs and down the hall. He snuck about quietly as he could, annoyed by the creak of the wooden floors. Why did nobody get carpeting anymore? Everyone wanted hardwood floors. 

He opened a door, stuck his head in, and closed it. Another door. And another. He could hear muttering downstairs and a laughter followed by the clatter of chips. They were getting up to do a walk!

Hanzo checked the next door, groaning softly to see a closet. The next door...

The sound of snoring.

He crept inside, closing the door behind himself and locking it securely. He listened at the edge, waiting to hear the guards slowly walk past, down the hall, and back again. It was a perfunctory watch. They returned to the kitchen and their game soon enough.

Hanzo stood up slowly and looked around. The room was nice. Not exactly the lap of luxury, but well decorated. It looked as though Jesse might talk to people up here as there was a small couch and chair around a coffee table. A book shelf, a desk with a computer and ledgers. A private bathroom and a terrace. All in all it looked rather casual. Somehow that fit Jesse.

He followed the sound of the snoring and smiled at Jesse's sleeping figure. The man had never slept in the stables, but Hanzo wasn't surprised to see that he sprawled out, taking over most of the space with absolutely none of the covers on him. 

“Elegant.” He humphed and rolled his eyes, getting his equipment ready. It had been simple enough to get a hold of everything. Maybe they were too lax in their guard. That made this more their fault than his. Hanzo found the needle and removed the cap, tapping it a few times to make sure the air bubbles were gone. It was a mild sedative he'd seen them use on one or two ponies if they started to freak out and hyperventilate themselves. They'd used it on him and while he had been able to fight back a bit, it had left him groggy and his limbs like wet noodles. 

He wanted Jesse awake for this. 

Jesse snorted awake at the pricking and his eyes rolled out as he caught sight of Hanzo. “What the fuck? You! Guar...uhhhmph!” 

Hanzo slammed him down to the bed and shoved the plunger forward, wrestling with the man as he tried to toss the needle aside before either of them could get hurt. “Hush now, 'Rustler'.” He grinned, teeth fleshing with smug victory as Jesse's eyes flashed. “Wouldn't want your guards to know what your boss takes you out into the jungle to do, yes?” Jesse thrashed under him, but the sedative worked quick when ones heart rate rose. “What is that saying? 'Save a horse, ride a cowboy?”

Jesse made a soft moan and tried to fight, pushing at Hanzo with less force than he had a second ago. He tried to bite at the hand covering his mouth but failed, gnawing it loosely. His jaw went slack and Hanzo sat back, straddling his waist as he watch the man start to grow drowsy. Jesse flailed at him weakly, eyes fluttering. “No. Do not worry. I only intend to hurt you a little bit.”

By the time Jesse woke back up, he had been tightly secured. The bit in his mouth held his tongue in supplication even when he tried to bite down on it. The ropes bit into his skin just enough to make any struggling ill advised, and when he looked up, Hanzo was standing above him.

“Your friend, Gabriel, is he still here?”

Jesse hesitated for a moment before giving a brief nod.

“Close enough to hear us?” 

A much longer pause. Jesse was clearly debating things, weighing his options. On one hand, if he did anything foolish, there was a very real potential to be hurt, even killed. On the other...well...maybe there was a certain curiosity to see just what his Dragon had in store. He shook his head in a no.

“I could find out if you're lying. But we don't have all night, now do we? You're a very busy man, Jesse McCree.” Hanzo took the file folder he'd been holding and threw it on the ground, pictures and paperwork fluttering about. “Don't worry. I know enough now. But it doesn't really matter. Who would I tell? Who would believe me.” He knelt down between Jesse's legs and pried them open, admiring the way the firm, perk ass led down to the perineum. He wound the balls around in his hands, watching Jesse groan and squirm against his grip. “But I have another purpose for visiting you tonight. A much more personal one.”

Jesse shrieked into the bit as a hand smacked his balls hard, popping them around inside the sac. He struggled, only to have the next hit crack into him so much harder than the first that stars floated before his eyes. 

“Yes. That rather hurts doesn't it? But then I'm, sure you're at least a bit used to it.” Hanzo chuckled, keeping a firm, but relaxed pace as he continued to beat the man's balls with the flat of his palm. “Brought here at nineteen. Registered as “Rustler” to a Mr. Marricone. The name is not lost on me, by the way.”

Jesse grunted as the next hit made his brain whirl. His thighs shook as he waited for the next blow, only to feel Hanzo begin to pull his balls away from his body with fierce determination. 

“So, if your real name is McCree, than who is Marricone, I found myself wondering.” Hanzo chuckled and let go, the balls snapping back into plain painfully. “Then I looked a bit deeper. You're not the first Marricone, are you?” He rapped the balls with his knuckles, Jesse's tight little bleats bringing him some kind of justified pleasure. “Who was it? You're friend Gabriel?” He rapped harder and Jesse closed his eyes, whimpering sharply. “No answer? I suppose it's no matter. It doesn't change what I've come here to do.”

Jesse gasped in relief when his sac was released, only to feel Hanzo's fingers caress his hole tenderly. He looked back, for a second disbelieving. But a moment later, a soft, almost pliant expression surprised the man. 

“...you were his. He trained you, must as you trained me.” Hanzo pulled up a bottle of lubrication and rubbed some on the crest between the cheeks. “Am I close?”

The poor man groaned at the delicate breech and turned his face away, gurgling on the bit.

“He taunt you how to pull and buck, and take the bit as you were told. How long did you serve in the stables before you became his protege? Months? Years, Jesse? How long before you turned from a prancing pony into the ranch owner?” The fingers buried in knuckle deep and Jesse whined, his hole still tender from Gabriel's earlier fucking. Hanzo flexed then, feeling the silky soft insides with a smirk. “Well now, someone hasn't learned to clench up, has he?” 

A soft, wanton pant escaped, Jesse's thighs spreading wider as if by instinct. The little puffs escaped his nostrils with animalistic force and he seemed to rise up, offering his ass. 

Hanzo pulled up behind him. “How well trained you are.” He pulled his cock up, rubbing it against the hole. “I suppose you can't take a pony out of the stable now can you?” There was something...powerful about this whole thing. It was dirty and base. Crude. But as Jesse looked back, those pretty brown eyes full of longing, it wasn't hard to admit that his cock was quickly growing. 

Jesse grinned just a bit past his gag and pushed his hips back, inviting more.

“...are you a pony or just a slut, McCree?” Hanzo leaned forward, letting himself enjoy the first, hard pop inside. It took his breath away. How long had it been since he'd felt a wonderful tight squeeze welcome his prick? How long since warmth besides a hand to pump into had comforted him? It bordered on too much. He clenched down and steadied himself, refusing to let his orgasm come too quickly. If he was going to make a point, he would have to do it with some level of authority. 

Hanzo found his balance and thrust in deep, letting Jesse accommodate him with a hungry groan. “You were not as cruel as you might have been.” He whispered softly, holding the ass cheeks wide. “For that I suppose I owe you some thanks. But I don't recall you being particularly gentle.” His next grunting rut forward made Jesse whine back in his throat, and Hanzo enjoyed it immensely. “You did something for me though. You taught me, Jesse. You taught me discipline...” A hard thrust, Jesse's body arching and moving with the insistent press. “You reminded me that I am capable of great patience.” He knocked in hard and kept going, slamming the cowboys body back into his, watching as Jesse began a sweet whimpering peel. “You gave me pleasure. You made me earn it. You made me feel strong, Jesse McCree.” 

Hanzo leaned in close, kissing Jesse's ear and nuzzling down by his cheek. “Do you feel strong right now?” He asked and Jesse's soft, lusty moan answered him.

He returned to his stable afterwards. Where else did he have to go? He could not run and hide. They knew every trail and location on the island. He could not board a ship. They would discover him missing and fetch him. This time there would be no forgiveness. So what else could he do but sneak back across the compound, lock himself back in his cell, and wait.

He did not sleep. He waited. He watched the clouds become visible across the horizon, outlined in blue and pink as the sun came up. He listened to the songbirds chirp in the morning and the starting sounds of the handlers starting up their daily chores. He sat on his cot, and waited. 

At 8 o'clock on the dot, Jesse turned up at the door to his stall, rubbing the rope burns on his upper arms, licking his sore jaw and looking at him as though making a very careful decision. “Dragon.” He said, his voice level and drawling just as beautifully as ever. “Get up there pony, I got somebody I want ya ta meet.”


	9. Chapter 9

Hanzo did not resist. Whatever came from this point on, he'd made his stance clear. As Jesse fit him in his gear and bit, he saw a handler come around the corner to fetch him for rounds. She made himself ready and yet was not entirely surprised to see Jesse's hand reach out to take the reins, claiming his company for the time being.

“Not today.” Jesse instructed, his fingers white knuckling the leather hold. “Got something special for him.”

The man looked from Jesse to Hanzo, clearly thinking the wayward pony had done something stupid again and gotten himself in trouble. He fetched another filly and touted her out around the corner to meet the client. What business was it of his if Jesse needed to correct the most troublesome pony in the group? 

Hanzo nudged Jesse's shoulder, but the man gave him a strict, unreadable look. Don't ask questions. Stay in line and be glad I haven't put your ass in the ground for what you pulled. He clopped along obediently, following Jesse out past the carts and down a trail. For a dark moment Hanzo feared he'd pushed too far. He'd made a mistake! Jesse was taking him out to shoot him and end this farce once and for all. He hauled back, a spurt of fear in his belly.

Jesse took the reins and pulled him forward. “Settle now.” he cooed in a familiar, gentle tone. “Hush. Don't you worry. Ain't as bad as all that.” he reassured the pretty gelding, a faint smile on his lips. “There's jus somebody you oughta go on and meet. Thats all.” He reached up and stroked Hanzo's beard fondly, his thumb nail scratching down the jaw with a comforting air. “I shouldn't a underestimated ya.” He continued as they walked down the trail, Hanzo's boots leaving heavy hoof prints in the dirt. “This place, it ain't easy. You'd be surprised how many ponies don't make it a year. I... damn me I took a likin to ya. Stubborn, proud, and those eyes. Such pretty eyes.” 

Hanzo wasn't sure if Jesse was talking directly to him or just musing. He kept quiet and kept pace, observing his surroundings with keen awareness. Whatever happened, he had led himself to this when he made the decision to confront Jesse rather than attempt an escape or seek his revenge. He would have to live with the fallout from that choice...or not. 

“I shouldn't a let ya get under my skin like that. But here we are. You coulda killed me last night. But you didn't. You're smarter than that, ain't ya, Dragon?” Jesse gave him a fond pat. He didn't seem angry. If anything he seemed optimistic, maybe even a tad impressed as he led his dear Dragon to their destination. 

Ahead of them was an older barn, clearly one used now more for storage than function. A faded, handmade sign stood above the door with the words 'Ten Gallon Stallions' emblazoned in blue and red. A tall, broad shouldered man stood out in front, wearing a wide brimmed hat and leaning back with a relaxed air. He looked up as they approached and humphed. “So this is him hum?” He walked forward a took Hanzo by the chin, turning him this way and that. “Don't look like much to me.” 

“Don't underestimate him, Jefe. He's bound to impress or I wouldn't have invested so much time on him.” Jesse assured the man, tugging back on Hanzo's bridle and bringing him around. “Now, I got some work I gotta take care of taday. I need you ta be on yer best behavior for Gabriel. You understand me?”

Hanzo hesitated, looking over at the tall, intimidating man. Those dark eyes were hard to read, and the set of the jaw didn't seem to brook any mercy. But what choice did he have? There was something in play here and he had no choice but to follow through to the end. He nodded, nuzzling Jesse's chest, making a soft whine.

“Don't worry. He's bark's worse than his bite. But that bark is still pretty loud.” He gave Hanzo a soft little kiss on the bridge on his nose and whispered to him, petting through the grays on his temples. Mí bonito, mí buen caballito. Muéstrame que puedes comportarte. Muestrale lo que un buen semental puedes ser." 

Gabriel waited till Jesse was gone before taking the reins, leading Hanzo to him. “You're pretty. I'll give you that. He always did have a weak spot for the pretty ones. But I better see more than a cute face.” He brandished a crop from his side, tapping it to the pony's thigh sharply. “Camina!”

Hanzo's mind snapped back and he pulled himself up into a proud position. He'd gotten a great deal better at the posture and balance of the heeled pony boots and began to come forward, following Gabriel's command. His knees hit his chest as he obeyed and he saw a slight nod from his new commander. He began to move at a faster pace, striving to please.

Gabriel was putting him through the basic paces. Walk, trot, double time. He took him around the trees, expecting that he would not loose his rhythm and pacing as he was worked through the terrain. A sharp clap of the crop against his thighs was an unyielding correction, and Hanzo noticed right off the bat that Gabriel had a much stronger hand than Jesse. Or maybe it was just that Jesse liked him more. He began to make Hanzo kneel and stand, pushing him to leap up without hesitation and get to his feet. “Come on. When I tell a pony to hope I expect to see them hop!” 

Hanzo did his best, quickly figuring out how to go from knees to standing without loosing his balance. The gruff grunt seemed to be the closest thing to approval he was going to get. 

Over all he seemed satisfied. Not thrilled, but satisfied. “I've seen better. I expect better given how much trouble you've been to my Jesse.” He spoke gruffly and scratched down Hanzo's scalp, asserting his control, his power in this situation. He needn't have bothered. Hanzo could smell authority coming from this man. Perhaps it was his baring, the manner in which he carried himself. Maybe it was the way he walked or even how he spoke. But it was clear who held the reins here. “But he promised me you're worth the effort. Let's find out.” 

Hanzo was led into the barn, the dirty state of this place only increasing the sensation of fear in him. Was this some sort of specialized play area? Some of their clients liked things to feel dirty and cruel even when everything was being monitored safely. But he didn't get that feeling from this. No. There was an authenticity to this place that seemed like he was threatened just by being in here. This was outside the usual polished offerings of the rest of the ranch. 

In the center of the room was a rather long bench which had been bolted to the floor. It looked new compared to everything else, for it was made from polished wood and looked to be clean. As Hanzo got closer, his eyes adjusting to the new light of his surroundings, he was ashamed to say he stumbled for a moment. Jutting up from the bench were dildos, separated by about two feet going the whole length of the board. As he was made to walk up to it, Hanzo could see each one created a new challenge, increasing in length, girth, and shape. He could feel his asshole clench up just looking at some of the ones further down the line up! 

“I see that look, Dragon.” Gabriel's tone was unshaken as he walked Hanzo up to the first of them. “Are you really going to stand there and disappoint me? Disappoint Jesse?” He asked and popped the man's ass cheek. “I don't think you wanna do that, do you?” he righted Hanzo's face and pointed him down the line. “You are gonna sit down on each one, all the way. Once your ass hits that seat, you can pull up and move down to the next one. You have five minuets. If I see you pull up before your all the way down, you will be brought back to the first cock and start all over again. If you go over your time limit, you will be brought back to the start and you will do it all over again. Do you understand me, Dragon?”

Hanzo nodded quickly. What choice was there but to do it and do it well. Clearly Jesse had bragged on him, talked him up to this man. Well now that had put him in the awkward position of proved that it wasn't all just talk. Would Jesse be in trouble if he failed to achieve? Was this Gabriel person Jesse's boss? He was not given much time to think on it before Gabriel walked up behind him and removed the tail plug with brusque quickness. The audible pop made him aware of just how open he must be by now. He wondered if that would be a help or hindrance. 

Gabriel took a spray bottle and walked to the first toy, spritzing it down till it shone with lubricant. In one hand he held the bottle, in the other, a stop watch. “Ready?” he asked and before Hanzo could give any kind of confirmation, he clicked the button. “Get going.”

Hanzo gurgled behind the gag and straddled the bench, widening his stance and trying to hold a decent balance. He hadn't even had time to think this through! Bad enough he was three inches taller, making the bench down between his knees, but he had to bend his knees and hope his aim was right of risk sitting down and either jamming the toy up inside or missing and having it hit him right in the perineum! That kind of sharp, thudding pain would be unbearable, he'd likely lose his balance or worse, leave a nasty bruise that would make doing this even more difficult. He severely doubted that Gabriel would let him stop if he was foolish enough to fall.

He missed once and managed to catch himself, standing back up and giving it another shot as he slowly brought himself down. The moment he felt a pressure between his thighs and ended up dancing his ass around, trying to get it lined up right before slowly letting the tip slide in. It was not so bad. The first one was barely the length and width of a finger, and the plug had been holding him open for hours. Hanzo sunk into it, letting his body embrace the push and move back up. Down and up, down and up, getting himself ready for the next. He breathed a sigh of relief as his cheeks hit the seat and began to draw himself up. 

“That took you a whole minuet?” Gabriel growled out, shaking his head and giving Hanzo a hard slap with the crop. Another followed, blistering into the rounded muscle of his chest and then clapping down against his abdomen. This was not a gentle encouragement or a reminder of his place. This was a direct application of force, driving him to endure and work for his client. “Get a move on! Nine more to go and four minuets to do it in!” 

Hanzo whined and pulled himself back up, waddling down the line to the next one and working himself over it, pushing down perhaps a bit too fast. It bubbled up inside of him and he crooned out, aware of the new length within him. These toys were made of wood, which for him was something of a mixed blessing. On one hand, silicone or such would have wiggled around and been difficult to aim. On the other hand, wood had no give, no relax to it. Once it was inside, eh would feel that hard strength ass the way up inside. 

Hanzo groaned as he pushed himself down and let his cheeks hit the seat under him. He rose up and moved to the third, managing it fairly well, getting his cheeks on the board before moving to the forth. Gabriel walked ahead of him, giving each one a few squirts of lube so it was prepared for his body. Whether or not his body was prepared for the toy was another matter entirely. 

“Two minuets.” Gabriel announced. The man was barely even looking at him! He was struggling so hard to do this and yet it didn't seem to matter one way or the other to this bastard! Hanzo struggled over and with foolish determination sat right down, feeling the swift grind of it slam up inside of his as the toy filled his body. The thickness was starting to come closer to what he was used to, and he tried not to let it be a distraction to his efforts. 

He raised up and felt his asshole gape, trying to close on nothing as he moved awkwardly to the fifth toy on the line-up. The thick head was met with resistance and he had to bare down to get it in. He was almost grateful as he saw Gabriel pull out the bottle and give it a squirt under his ass, allowing him to slide down it with glorious ease. But he had been mistaken. His hole was becoming tender, easily susceptible to this new sensation. As he tried to pull back off, the hard wood ground up against hid prostate and Hanzo lost his balance, slamming back down on the toy. His spine went rigid and he cried out, the pleasure flooding his system. He tried again to raise up, but his own flesh was his most ardent betrayer. The thick head was like a bulwark, holding him on the prick. Even as he tried to rock back and forth, it only succeeded it pushing up against his sensitive prostate, weakening his resolve. 

Cock hard in his chastity cage, Hanzo was trying desperately hard not to cum. Jesse had done his job too well. In the weeks he'd spent here, Hanzo had taken to being fucked into orgasm remarkably well. He had begun to associate the thick press of being penetrated with orgasm far more than the distant yearnings of his own cock. Now it was going to be his downfall. He was fucking himself on the toy without thinking about it, seeking the relief that could only come from the relentless pressure of being milked. It was strange, but he had come to crave that tension. His cock left to leak helplessly, his prostate toyed with until he could no longer withhold and he was drained of his cum. Sometimes he was allowed an orgasm, other times they somehow managed to accomplish this and leave him somehow painfully unsatisfied, urging on his most needy sensibilities. It was a part of how they trained their ponies. Keeping them teetering on the edge between sexual gratification and constant awareness of their own desires working against them. 

Always horny. Always in need of something that would only be permitted when they preformed to the exact specifications. Never promised, but always a possibility they could work towards. Hanzo was not blind. For some ponies, orgasm seemed to encourage them to achieve as they were told. For others, denial brought them to heel quicker, making them meek. Some needed the promise of a reward if they worked hard enough. And some...some were permanently denied, their orgasms ruined or in some cases entirely ignored. Whatever it took to create a docile, compliant pony who came when called and offered themselves up to the clients wishes. 

When the beep went off, Gabriel sneered at him. “Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.” He grabbed the man by the reins and yanked him off, a hollow popping noise echoing in the old barn. “Back to the start. Go on! Move it, pony!” He drove Hanzo ahead of him with mean lashes from the crop. “The way he went on about you, I expected much better than this. You're so distracted by your own needs you're not getting any focus.” Gabriel hit him with a volley of blows, Hanzo yelping and whinnying properly as his ass was given a dozen new red stripes to show off. “Five minuets! Do something to impress me!”

Hanzo blurted out a panicked noise as he heard the click and rushed down the line. He pounced on the first, his cheeks just touching the wood before he yanked himself back up and slide down the second, bouncing hard enough to make himself howl. He hit the third with just enough strength to come off it in one movement, his hole sore and surely raw by now. But in his haste to do better, he missed and jerked off the fourth too soon.

Gabriel missed nothing. “You think you're going to cheat your way out of this?” He took the reins and Hanzo bellowed in protest as he was drug back to the starting point again. He panted and shook his head, fear and doubt creeping into his senses. “You're wasting time. Four minuets left! Get a move on.”

He pushed! Oh god how he pushed! He made it to the fourth one and hear the beep again, shaking his head in disbelief. ~Please! I can't! It's impossible!~ He balked at the third start, pulling away from the toys, his hole fluttering as he began to sweat. 

Gabriel's stone like eyes fixed him to the spot. “You're not just wasting your time, pony. You're wasting mine. And I don't have much patience for ponies who waste my time.” He set down the crop and drew out a cattle prod from the duffel bag he'd brought with him. He held the reigns tightly and Hanzo shrieked when the electricity popped over high thigh, making the flesh and muscle seize terribly. “Do I make myself clear?”

“NEIGH!” Hanzo nodded hurriedly. “Neigh!” 

“You've got three minuets. Make it count.” Gabriel warned, no patience in his voice at all for bad ponies who couldn't follow simple instructions. 

He wasn't going to make it. He knew that. But he was so terrified of what would happen if Gabriel thought he hadn't tried hard enough that he pushed. When five sunk back into his ass he lost himself for a split second, the distracting grip of it pushing up into his body with damning force. He made himself drag off it trough pure will power and worked himself towards number six. The length of it was what did him in when it began to push into new places. Knobs along the side bubbled up, maneuvering into the sensitive flesh, caressing the insides of his tunnel and creating the most beautifully fluttering sensation. It was addictive to sink onto, and before he could stop himself, be was rolling his hips on it, trying to push himself into deeper pleasure. Perhaps he told himself a lie in the back of his mind. Something like ~If it feels good enough, the next one will be easier to take.~ But the truth of it was he was forgetting his purpose. Good ponies, obedient ponies don't try to focus on their own pleasure. They focus on the clients first and foremost. Hanzo's eyes rolled back and he almost managed before the timer went off and he was forced to begin anew. 

Again. Again. He was loosing track quickly and perhaps that was for the best! By the time he came to six he was aware of a pushing that would not go away, a numbness that seemed to permeate the inside of his hole even as he began to work down on the bigger ones. 

Gabriel made a disgruntled noise when the beep went off again and checked his progress. “Eight in five minuets. Now we're getting somewhere.” He walked over and took the reins, but did not pull Hanzo off yet. “Take a second. You feel that?”

Hanzo, bleary eyed and exhausted, leaned forward nd nodded. He squirmed a bit and realized just how large this one had to be. He could feel his hole opened wide, stretched by the sheer girth. It felt as though he would move and see it in his belly. He cried out softly, shaking his head, pleading wordlessly for a moment of mercy. 

“This is where you oughta be able to go at a moments notice. Nobody has time for ponies who can't open themselves up and be ready.” Gabriel brushed his heard with his fingers, mulling things over. “He's been too soft on ya. I see that now. But there's...potential here. Drive. I can see that.” Gabriel lifted Hanzo's chin and pointed to the last two. “Last chance. Make it worth the trip.”

The retraction about knocked him out. He was a slippery hole pleading to be filled and there was nothing else within him. Hanzo looked down, his cock so engorged that it had pushed out a little from the slit in the front, causing his arousal to become unbearable! He would have given anything for the mercy of a numbing cream right now. His thighs burned. His hole was raw. He was exhausted and sweating and yet Gabriel seemed to take no notice! 

And he did not wish to know what would happen if he failed once more.

He pushed with all he had in him. There was no traction left at the moment. He slid down the first six without effort, pushing himself as the seventh plunged into him and left him gasping for air. He was neither in pleasure nor pain, but a wild and hazy clarity which pushed him to completion. As he lodged the eights deep into himself, a low, dazed groan peeled up over his lips as he drug himself off, moving to the ninth. 

Hanzo didn't dare take the time to look at it, but oh did he feel it! He could barely breath as it pushed into him, spreading him wider than his body felt capable of accepting! Hanzo howled out, drowning in his own arousal as it forcefully took him. He knees were weak. It was only by the grace of Gabriel's hold on the reins that he did not slam the entire thing inside. Perhaps the man knew that Jesse would be upset of Hanzo returned to him damaged. Or perhaps he didn't want to ruin a profitable pony. 

“Last one, pony. One minuet.”

Hanzo rose obediently, knowing that the noise his hole made would echo in his brain for the rest of his life. He positioned himself over the last toy and sunk down with clear resolution, taking it one inch at a time. By the time his ass hit the seat he was rigid as a statue, jaw agape as he tried not to clench, or move, or breath. All those things seemed like very bad ideas. 

“Well well.” Gabriel chuckled. “Not bad, Dragon. Not bad at all.” he took out his cell and snapped a few photos, then kneeling down to check. He pressed his hand up against Hanzo's belly and felt the firm press inside of it, nodding with satisfaction as the poor pony cried out from the strain. “Alright then. Up ya go. Come on.” He tucked his fingers under the pony's ass and helped him lift up, carrying him over to a pallet and letting Hanzo rest on his side. “Sporting a nice rosebud there, pony.” he cupped his hand along the poor creature's ass, spreading the cheeks so he could take a few more photos of the red and exposed hole. 

Hanzo could not bring himself to care that he was being photographed. Compared to everything else it seemed a minor torment. He knew on some level that he was moaning with every breath, his body half conscious as his fetters were released and he was allowed the privilege of laying there like a rug on the floor. He was too exhausted to sleep, yet he lay there as if utterly unaware of his surroundings. He was vaguely aware of Gabriel saying something to someone, but it hardly mattered. If he moved he was sure he would die from sheer lack of ability.

He didn't know how long he lay there, but at some point he heard a car pull up outside. Warm, familiar hands wrapped around his head and two men moved him onto a stretcher, laying him gently in the back seat of a van and driving back up the dirt road to the house. Hanzo drifted off in the relative comfort, plied to slumber by the rhythmic bumping of the truck. IN his sleep, he could swear he heard them talking.

“Honestly? Not bad. Not bad at all. Stubborn of course. But then I can't imagine you pickin someone who wasn't a challenge.”

“Does that mean I got your approval for the go ahead, Jefe?”

“You don't need my approval. This is your show now. You're the boss.”

“Yep. But that don't mean I don't appreciate the insight. I got concerns beyond the obvious.” Jesse voice sounded worried, but hopeful as he spoke to Gabriel.

“I know. Thought I recognized him. You think his connections to yakuza might be an issue in the long run?” 

“Don't know. Could go either way honestly. I paid for him, fair and square. Even if that brother of his thinks he's alive, nobody we dealt with knows where this place is. He'd be hard pressed to find it without a reliable informant.” Jesse rolled down the window, spat, and rolled it back up. “As it stands... well we'll have to see what he says.”

“It's your risk to take, Jesse. But for what it's worth, I think he's a solid choice.” 

“Good to hear. Lets get him up to the house and get him fixed up. You gonna stick around?”

“No. I'm headed back to the mainland tonight. Got business to take care of.” Gabriel sniffed and looked back at their passenger. “He's gonna be a handful.”

“Wasn't I?”

“You were a fuckin pain in the ass.”

They arrived at the house and Jesse had him brought up the stairs to his rooms, placed on the bed like he was a guest instead of the trained and broken pony they had worked so hard to turn him into. Hanzo had no illusions of escape. He could do nothing but lie there weakly as Jesse went to say his goodbyes. He faded in and out of consciousness, but when he awakened next it was to the feeling of a warm, soapy washcloth being drug over his tired skin, washing off the sweat and dirt. 

“Shush. You jus take it easy there, Hanzo.” Jesse told him in soft, caring tones. “Just rest. I'm gonna take care a ya.” Hanzo gurgled up and let his head fall to the side, swallowing dryly. A glass of water was brought to his lips and he drank plenty, moaning when Jesse turned him over carefully and began to wash down his back. The man took such caution with him, petting over every in and rinsing him when he was clean. He took a large, fluffy bath towel and dried him off before easing his way down to the bruised cheeks. “Now this is gonna sting a bit, but it's worth it, I promise.”

Hanzo did not ask, but he winced and sobbed out as fingers were stroke over the raw state of his asshole. His fingers dug into the pillow, but he did not dare move. They always took care of their ponies after. A damaged pony couldn't work and a pony who couldn't work couldn't make money. But that did not lessen how comforting it felt to be tended to in this way, his aching body soothed by the numbing and protective gel. The fingers slipped inside, applying an even coating, and Hanzo could not help but lift his hips ever so slightly, his body still craving release even past pain.

“I know. I know. Not exactly the best feeling after. But don't you worry. Shush. There we go.” Jesse continued to spread the salve against the flesh, helping to numb the pain and protect any minor tearing that may have occurred. His fingers withdrew all too quickly and he mistook the whine for one of pain. “Just you relax. It's over.”

“Ouh...o-ver?” Hanzo managed and looked up into the man's warm brown eyes. He cringed, realizing he should have known better than to speak. Had he not spent the last several weeks having his brain drug in and out through the rigorous conditioning until he felt his own human mind slip away and the obedience of a pony push through? If this latest torment did not solidify his place here, what on earth would? But there was no rebuke. Jesse merely smiled and continued to tend to him.

“Don't worry about that right now. Get some sleep. When you're ready, you're gonna grab a hot soak, take some very good pain killers, eat a meal, and then...you and I are gonna have a chat.” Jesse moved his fingers to the injuries left along his thighs and ass, slowly working the salve into them. Once he had finished the with preliminary care, he took warm oil and began to knead it into Hanzo's shoulders and neck, pulling tension and strain out of the muscles as the body went limp under his ministrations. 

Confusion crept through him. What was this? Was it a new game of some kind? A trick? Had he done so poorly? Had he done so well? Should he neigh or say thank you? Should he move at all? Damn but he did not want to move if it was not demanded of him! He wanted to ask about what, but his brain finally caught up with his body. He did not remember what happened next, but an inky blackness took him and he dropped into nothingness like it was a blanket wrapped around him.


	10. Chapter 10

He woke to the sound of rain on the patio. He opened his eyes carefully, his body strained to the point of movement being painful. He cast his gaze around the room, seeing out his host. It took a moment, but he found Jesse sitting just beneath the overhang, smoking a very large cigar with his feet up on an ottoman, back turned to his subject. 

Hanzo hesitated before trying to get up, but he tried to none the less. He stifled the groan as his muscles strained and protested, complaining as he attempted to drop to the floor in a submissive,pony-like pose.   
“Heh. Come on now, none a that.” Jesse peered back over his shoulder with a calming smile. “You're gonna be hard on those knees. Come on now...” He patted a chair next to him. “Come on. You had a hard night. I got some pain killers right here and a nice, hot cup of coffee. Stogie if you want one too.”

“I've...never smoked.” Hanzo stood with caution, both due to the strain on his body and the fear that he was doing something he would be punished for later. “What...”

“Don't worry. You're safe here. Now...painkillers. Food. Rest.” Jesse demanded, directing him where to sit. He waited till Hanzo was able to work his way over and half lumber into the chair, his body practically melting into it. He grunted, wincing but pushing himself into the cushions. “There ya go. Now, I got fruit, bacon, oatmeal. Coffee. Go on. Eat up before you take the percocet.” 

Hanzo reached for the food, piling up a bowl with oatmeal, honey, butter, sugar and raisins. It had been so long since he'd been allowed to choose his own food. He gulped it down quickly, savoring the warmth it left in his belly against the chill of the rainy weather. 

“Storm season is set in. It'll be like this for a month or two. We won't get too many customers wanting to take rides so...” he pointed down the way. “We'll be opening the barn and letting them do training in there, put the ponies through their paces. We'll let them take the ponies up into the house for private time, enjoy them a bit.” He seemed to be meandering in his thoughts, more like discussing things to himself than really talking to anyone.

“Will...I be returning to the stables then?”

“Well now that really depends on you.” Jesse took a long drag from his cigar, breathing out the oaky and vanilla smoke and watching it curl through the air and quickly disperse in the rain. “What it is you wanna get out of your time here. What it is you want to do with yerself.”

“I can not make any decisions without knowing what options are available to me. Yesterday I was in fetters and a bridle. Now I sit beside you while you speak to me as an equal.”

“And a few days ago you snuck into my house. You coulda killed me. But ya didn't. Coulda tried to escape. Ya didn't.” 

Hanzo clasped his hands together, twirling his thumbs around as he formed his words carefully. “Assuming I could have escaped, which has proven futile before, where would I run to? I am sure by now you've gained some knowledge of who I am...was. The empire my father built was destroyed. To return now would be death. I have not the means nor the connections with which to seek revenge. I have nowhere to run to. And as for killing you...” He gazed up into the wry eyes, a little heat building in his belly. “It would have scratched an itch. But I would have regretted it later. I do not wish you dead, Mr. Marricone.”

Jesse laughed under his breath. “McCree.” He informed the man. “Jesse McCree. Marricone is the inherited name I go by. Sort of an in-joke. It's a long story.”

“I have nowhere to be, McCree.” Hanzo took the mug of coffee and sipped at it, closing his eyes as he inhaled the rich, bitter taste. He'd forgotten how much he loved coffee.

“Heh...well. Don't blame me if ya get bored in an hour or two.” The cowboy took another drag and coughed in the back of his throat. “So...round about oh four hundred years ago, this island belonged to the native peoples. Then in came the Spanish who built a monastery here in an attempt to convert the locals to Catholicism. Didn't go so well. Meaning the the Spaniards did what they usually do to natives who don't wanna start praying to a new god and either enslaved or killed them. Go forwards a bit and you got the Franco-Spanish war, and the Spaniards are using this place as a military outpost, somewhere to resupply or send out Spanish pirates to assault French ships. Well some time into that, the French took over the island and turned it into a French military outpost. The Generals name was Marcion. After the war, they, being the French, decided they wanted to keep the island and declared Marcion governor of the place. Being a cavalry man, he had an abundance of horses from his military days and soon the island became known for breeding superior warhorses. That went on for a few generations, but one of his great great grandsons ended up not being so good with money. Got himself into debt with a pirate captain of some kind.” McCree took a big drink of coffee and looked over. “Stop me if I'm boring you.”

“Not at all. Though I can't help but feel you are trying to avoid answering my question.”

“Heh. Naw. Just answering it in a round about way. So anyhow, in order to keep from getting his throat slit, the guy offers the pirates to use this place as a smugglers cove, stashing goods, trading things, resupplying. Well of course that invites in a criminal element which means the whole island goes to pot pretty quick. But this guys son, Marcion the...tenth or eleventh I think, has a better head for business. He starts getting taking the taxes and instead of spending them on drink and women and gambling, buys up mercenaries and pirates by the hoard until he has enough to take control of the island again. He gives the pirates a choice, work for him or get blown to kingdom come.”

“I take it not everyone took the easy and profitable way.” Hanzo surmised. Like any gang war over turf, nobody could ever let pride go. 

“Of course not. But enough did. Still, too much money was being brought in for him to let the business go legit. Marcion kept trade running through the place as a pirates paradise till his death, and his son after him. But by the next generation, the golden age of piracy was dying, and in the way of things, the island was abandoned to the vines and the animals when the ships stopped puttin to port here. Now...” McCree settled back down. “Fast forward a hundred and fifty years er so and you got all these people talking about legends and pirates. This place becomes kind of a hot spot for part time treasure hunters and archaeologists looking for the next big find. Eventually, somebody found something. Turns out Maricon was stashing a massive hoard of gold in a cave along the southern shore line, but didn't leave it in his will and didn't tell even his own family bout it. So this guy up from Mexico finds it, totally by accident, wasn't even looking. Just dropped by to go diving in the underwater caves around this area. And the news have a fit cause guess what, the guys name is?”

“Marcion.”

Jesse laughed. “Sure enough! And to top it off, his diving partner is also his life partner. So this island gets renamed from Marcion Isle to Marricone Island. Got even more of a thing when he took part of the loot and bought the island with the intention of turning it into a kind of gay high class resort. Too bad he wasn't so good with money. The usual problems, bad investments, building took longer than he thought. He ended up in debt and making deals with the wrong sort of people. Next thing you know the beautiful resort is now a brothel and drug smugglers den. He had a choice. Get with the program or end up face down in the ocean. Guess which one he took.”

“Was he...is he the gentleman I was left to entertain yesterday?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Now I hope you don't mind but I got no business going to deep into his personal business. Maybe if he's of a mind to tell ya, ya might ask him. But I wouldn't go doin it. He don't like bein reminded of it. Especially since you only just managed to impress him.” 

“Just?” Hanzo snorted indignantly. “My ass has been turned inside out and I only just managed to impress him?”

“Don't take it took hard. He was rough on me too.” 

He was silent for a moment, throwing back and forth whether or not he should say anything. “Do you mean...but of course it is none of my business.” He stared down at his cup, the ache of knowledge gnawing in his gut, wanting so badly to be told, to be gifted with some small emotionally contention to Jesse that didn't come from trusting him with a bridle and whip. 

Jesse closed his eyes and tilted his hat back. “We called ourselves the Rustlers. But in truth we were jus a bunch of young punks with everything to prove and nobody ta prove it to. We ran up and down the streets, just old enough to be legal and too young for the cheap beer we were drinkin'. Acted like hot shit. Picked fights, knocked over mini-marts, smoked weed and trashed somebodies car once. Everybody blamed our upbringin but the truth a the matter is most a us didn't have parents and those that did would rather not a had any. The long and short of it is we got too big for our britches and ended up crossin a real gang. They came down on us hard. Marty and Kole got a boot to the back o the head while biting the curb. Josie and Jose went fishing with cement shoes. I never found out what they did to Barbara. But me? I guess I was kinda the ringleader of our little group. The wanted to make an example of me. “Thats how I ended up here.” 

“And Mr. Maricon took a liking to you?”

“Just the opposite. I was every bit as ornery as you. Maybe even more. I don't think a day went by where I wasn't stung up to get my ass belted and my body run till I couldn't move. I think he ended up havin ta drag me back into the stables most times. I used ta...heh...I used to get fitted with weighted boots, make it harder to me to run, make my work more difficult. They'd fit the bridle back so far in my mouth I'd almost choke on it. They used ta have this full latex suit, fit you up so you couldn't even move without help, put you down on all fours, kept ya in the dark. They'd play a recording in yer ears, over and over and over for days.” Jesse fidgeted with his hands. “First thing I got rid of when I got in charge a the place. Funny how stuff like that can stick with you. But I guess my stubborn nature started to win him over. Jefe found himself spending more and more time with me. Him and his partner both, working me over till I was sore and sweating and too tired to resist anymore.”

“So how did you end up in charge, the new Mr. Marricone so to speak?”

“Same way most bosses move up to become big bosses. He decided to retire. Turns out running a fancy place for people to come and live out their dirty fantasies is much more profitable than any hotel could ever be. Especially when you don't have to pay your workers. He decided to retire about five or six years back, took me out of the stables and into the bedroom, started showing me how to run the show. Been working this place as the boss for three years.” Jesse opened his hands to Hanzo. “So there you have it. I'll be running this place until I choose someone to take my place.”

“Is that an offer? You tire of this life and I have been picked to replace you?”

“Well not quite. See, Jefe had a partner. Someone who was there to have his back, help him get things done around here and provide him with support. Occurred to me that I ain't got one like that. Somebody I can trust in troubled waters.”

Hanzo blinked back, not sure if he felt flattered by this or not. “You trust me? Why should you? There is no reason to.”

“Save that you had me cornered and you chose to fuck me blind rather than murder me cold. Maybe that seems a bit off, but in this business it's a damn sight better than what most woulda done.” Jesse approached him, reaching down to slide his fingers along Hanzo's beard with a tender touch. “I'm offerin you a way outta the stables, hunny. You got all that spitfire and stubbornness. But you got a cool head, you know how to play things so as to keep yourself outta trouble. You know how to be sly and subtle, something I didn't ever really get the hang of.” Jesse sat down across from him, putting out his cigar in the ashtray, looking up at him as if trying to gauge his reaction to everything. “I need a partner, Hanzo.”

“Why me then? Why not one of your men? They've been with you longer, surely their advice, their strategies are more reliable.”

“Those guys? Nah. They think too much with their dicks. They're happy enough getting ta stick their cocks in the other ponies and getting paid to do it. They're fine wranglers and trainers, but the don't have the self control. Or...iffen you'll excuse me for saying so, the resume for this kind of work.”

Ah. So that was a factor then. “I'll inform you now, the Shimada never trucked in illegal flesh. We owned brothels, but they were all entirely within legal boundaries.”

“And in Japan, legal boundaries can get stretched pretty thin...especially in the sex trade. So if you'll kindly avoid playing the morality card with me, I'd appreciate it greatly.” Jesse chided him with even eyes. He was no fool. Nobody here could play the innocence card. The simple truth of it was they were both men with black spots on their records. Best not to pretend otherwise. 

“Is it the connections you want? The Shimada's were decimated. The Yakimada's are sure to have moved in on all of our operations by now. If we had anyone left to us who was loyal, they've either defected or been killed as my father was. I have no allies left.” Hanzo wasn't sure what he was trying to do here. On one hand, this was the opportunity he'd been aching for. There was something about Jesse which drew him to the man. A freedom which existed under his control that had never been offered to him before. He did not like being rented or used by others, but he adored the cowboy's training and attention. It was like water in the desert. He did not want to stop being his pony, but he did not want to be just a pony in the stables. So why was he telling the man everything that devalued him as a partner.

“Oh I don't think thats quite true. I ain't been idle while we had you here. I knew there had to be a reason the Yakimadas's sold you so cheaply. They wanted you out of the country and fast. Which meant you had to be a rival. It only took a little digging to find out who you really were. I've had my eye on the Japanese news channels, keeping myself abreast o' the situation.” Jesse touched his hand gently, offering stability for what he was about to say. “You're brother is back in Japan.”

Hanzo squeezed the mug so tightly that it shattered in his hand. “He...!”

“You've got more allies then you think. I've got my own ears to the ground and while they know he's come home, your enemies haven't found him yet. So somebody has to be helping him keep a low profile. Meanwhile, there've been some whispers of people tryin ta find out what happened ta you. Now, I don leave a paper trail. But I reckon you'd like yer brother to see you alive, well, and not wearin a bridle and tail plug the next time you meet face ta face.” 

Hanzo turned red with shame. He had let his family name fall so far! Even when they had been defeated, he had expected death, but not to be humiliated to the point of craving such treatment. “I do not want Genji to see me like that.”

“And thats something I can solve easily. If you want, you can go back to the stables. You can let go of the life you had and be a pony, maybe even a better behaved one now. Or...” he lifted those fingers to his lips and kissed them softly. “You can be my partner. Equal partners. And in exchange, I'll do everything I can with my influences to find your brother and ensure his safety, have him brought here if it'll please you. On my honor, noone'll say a damned thing bout how you came to this island.”

“Did you plan this from the moment you bought me?” Hanzo asked, needing to know.

“When I bought you all I knew was you were mouthy and obstinate, and I liked it. Everything else I found out while we were training ya. I came to my decision bout two weeks ago, wanted to run it by the original Mr. Marricone and see if he thought you'd be a good fit.” Jesse kicked his feet back up. “No rushin the decision. Ain't no need to be hasty about it. You take your time. But I wanna be clear about this, Hanzo. This is the only time I'm gonna ask ya. You go back to the stables, then thats it. Yer Dragon. We got a way a doin things here an it ain't always right, but it works. Can't let the other ponies get ideas. But I promise you, and my word is as good as gold. You pick a partnership with me, I'll do everything in my power to protect you an yer kin.”

“Then I require no time at all.” Hanzo stood, shakily, cringing as he got to his feet, but managing. “It is a deal, Jesse McCree. And as you say. My word is good as gold.” He held out his hand and it was grasped firmly, their eyes locking as they squeezed.

“What now? Must I sign a contract or execute someone to prove my loyalty?” Hanzo was surprised when Jesse laughed at him. 

“Settle down there, Dragon!” Jesse snorted, then caught himself. “Err...sorry. Might be a tad ta get used to.”

Hanzo turned pink about the cheeks. “I...would not mind if you called me that...sometimes. When we are alone.”

“I see.” Jesse's expression was tender, intimate. “I'll keep that in mind. But for now, just know this. If yer gonna be loyal, you'll be loyal. If yer bidin yer time, waiting to stab me in the back...well I'm the fool for trusting ya. We'll get you get up in yer own room. I'll help you get settled in.” He gripped Hanzo's wrist, pulling him in closer, drawing his chin up and into a hungry kiss. Their lips met, and the warmth blossomed on Hanzo's tongue, caressing down his throat as the cowboy tugged at his hair. “Don't make me regret this, Hanzy.”

“I shall do my best not to.”

~~~

Japan was no longer a welcoming place. Through the neon lit streets and rainy hazy, Genji could feel eyes peering at him, seeking him out. His decision to return home had not been hasty, though a fire burned in his gut, telling him to seek revenge for the assassination of his family. 

He had wanted to go home, to return to the mansion that belonged to his family for generations, only to be told that it was no longer standing. It had burned to the ground a few weeks after his father and brother's disappearance, a sure sign that the Yakimada's had wanted to purge any evidence that might linger there. His enemies had not been idle since the fall of their rivals, and those who still wished to remain loyal to the only Shimada son left had warned him that they were looking for him. 

Genji had promised himself to remember the names of those who had offered him shelter and protection. When he assumed his position as the head of the Shimada clan, he would be sure they were repaid a thousand times over. At first, he had begun searching for any news regarding Hanzo. His brother's body had never been discovered. Genji had held on to the faint hope that perhaps he was being kept somewhere to divulge secrets about their father or their holdings. But as the months past, he began to realize that even if the Yakimada's had gotten hold of him, they would not have kept him this long. Either Hanzo would have escaped, or he would have attempted to escape...and failed. 

He had gone to visit the local Shinto temple and pay his respects to them. The Shimada's had always remained in good standing, despite their affiliations, and gave frequently to help local charities and the needy. He knew the kannushi recognized him, but the man said nothing, merely continued with his duties as if Genji were not there. 

He had heard through the rumor mill that the Yakimada's were not quite as open handed with their offerings. Their father had always talked to them about tending their territory as if they were tending a garden. A well seeded, well maintained soil would yield a greater crop, allowing for a more bountiful harvest. But if you ignored it, failed to give it the attention as needed, then you should not be surprised if you found your harvest to be meager. 

Apparently nobody discussed the finer points of horticulture with the Yakimada's. 

 

He left quickly, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. Genji knew he should be getting back to his safehouse, but the months of cloistering himself were beginning to wane on him. His brother had always refereed to him as irresponsible, reckless. Perhaps there was something to that. With the part of him that knew he had to remain cautious, play things close to the chest, there was the hot-blooded part that invited a fight. He longed to punish someone for this tragedy, to let someone feel the anger growing in his body. He wanted to get drunk, start a fight, punch someone across the bar like he would have only a few short years ago. But that would draw attention that he couldn't afford. He had to be wise...like Hanzo.

He remembered his brother's parting words to him, while the car was being brought around to take him to the airport. 

“It isn't about you being good enough, Genji. It's about becoming a better you.”

“No. It is about making me into you.” He smarted back angrily, glaring into Hanzo's calm, almost pitying eyes. “Well I'm not you, Hanzo. I won't ever be you! Even if you send me to the same bullshit schools!”

“We're not sending you there to turn you into me, either. This is the best education money can buy, Genji. This is an opportunity to gain a little independence, find out who you are outside of the family. Genji...” Hanzo did not plead with him, but there was a tone in his voice, an askance. Genji was at that age where young adults do not like to be condescended to, and kneeling would have felt like he was mocking his brother somehow. “One day, I am going to need you by my side. I will need you to help me lead this family. I am depending on you, little brother. We all are. I trust you.” His smile was sincere, full of faith and confidence. “I know I can trust you.”

That had hurt. Genji was not a foolish young man. He knew his father had no faith in him to take on the role of second in command. No one in the clan did. It was not as if he showed any interest in it. But when you were born into a family like the Shimada's, getting out was not an option. You found a place within it's ranks and you made that a part of your identity. Hanzo was destined to take over when their father retired. Genji was meant to be his lieutenant. The fact that his elder brother had taken to the role with the same confidence in his ascension as their father had did not help matters in the least. But of everyone, Hanzo had always believed that Genji was more capable than any of them gave him credit for. 

It had been Hanzo's idea to send him overseas for prep-school and university. Genji knew he had resented it at the time, seeing it as a method to get the troublesome and disappointing brother out from underfoot. Now that he looked back, Hanzo had been right. Without the pressures of his family hanging over his shoulders, Genji had the chance to exist on his own merits. He made his own friends, found his own activities, lived his own life. Hanzo had given him the chance, the opportunity to become his own person.

~I never thanked him for that.~ His heart started to hurt, thudding in his chest till it sank to his belly with the weight of guilt. So many things he would now never have the opportunity to say. So much he wished...he'd give anything...

Genji realized this was the third time he had seen the same black car circling the block. 

He shrugged the parka up around his shoulders, trying to look as though he hadn't seen anything. He tossed around the idea of ducking into a store, but that wouldn't do any good. Most of the stores here were under protection. Yakimada goons would think nothing of grabbing him, taking him into a back room, and doing to him what they'd done to Hanzo.

He didn't duck down an alley way for the same reasons. Genji looked towards one of the ladders hanging overhead and suddenly turned to the right, kicking himself up the wall and grabbing hold of it, swinging himself up onto the rung. Sure enough the car skidded to a stop and a man got out. Genji didn't stop to see who it was. He climbed the ladder quick as possible and got up to the roof, taking off quick as a rabbit. 

He'd spent three years on the track team at the prep-school. They'd have a hard time catching up. 

Genji didn't head in a straight line. He criss-crossed rooftops as if playing chess, working to loose any pursuers quickly as possible. He couldn't go back to his safe house until he was totally confident he didn't have anyone on his tail. If he could make it out of Yakimada territory, he knew where the entry to the sewers was through the run off bellow the bridge. He wasn't above hiding out in them for a few hours to stay safe. 

“HEY!”

~Shit!~ He expected to hear gun shots ring out, but none came. He could hear footsteps falling behind him, closing in, but not fast enough. He took off at a shot, taking a huge jump and risking that his pursuer wouldn't follow. He was right. Being young had it's benefits. The older goons knew better than to try such a big leap and end up breaking something. He crossed the roofs again, climbing down a ladder and switching to the next building before going up the patios and into an open window of the abandoned building. He ducked down quickly, looking around for any homeless people who might give him away. He had some cash on hand. Enough to pay them to keep quiet. Genji snuck around, satisfied that he was alone, and peered out the windows for anyone.

~Damn.~ The black car was coming slowly up the street, clearly looking for him. ~Okay...I can wait a little bit and head back out from another floor. There's an alleyway I can slip through, find my way into the back door of a bar, sneak my way out with some drunk patrons. Maybe grab a cab...”

“Genji Shimada.”

He had the gun out in front of him before he could blink. He was no good with a gun. He'd only ever used a rifle for the shooting club, but it was better than having nothing to defend himself with. He whirled around to the man standing before him in a garishly white suit with a pink button down shot and a bolero tie swinging side to side. He didn't look like a Yakimada. And his accent was distinctly American. “I don't know who you're looking for, but I'm not him. Move along.” Could he bluff his way out of this?

“Heh. Nah. I know who you are. Got a picture of ya right here.” He drew it out of his wallet, the burn of the cigar lighting up his face to reveal broad, roughly handsome features. He turned the picture around to show it to Genji.

It took him a moment to recognize himself and Hanzo. It was his tenth birthday party, and he'd been obsessed with Transformers, the entire party littered with themed merchandise and banners. It was a candid shot their mother had gotten of his father, chasing him around with a delighted look on his icing smeared face, Genji and Hanzo shrieking with delight as they ran away, hands covered in the evidence. 

“How...you...” He pointed the gun at the man's face. “Who are you? Where did you get that picture?”

“Well it's interesting the sorta things you have access to when ya got someones bank vault information. Don't go thinking I went and got it the bad way. The information was given voluntarily.” He held up both hands, showing them to be empty. “Now, he said you might be a bit on the irate side. So I'm gonna reach inta my pocket slowly. I'm jus takin out a cell phone. There ya go.” It was a disposable phone, one that could be destroyed easily. “I'm sorry ta do things this way. He wanted ta be here himself. Ya gotta know that. But we both agreed it weren't safe yet. Now...here. Just hit the first contact.”

Genji did not move the gun away from his face. He hit the contact number and held it up to his ear, listening to the ringing as he tried to keep an eye on the window at the same time. This could easily be a distraction, keeping him trained on one person while more snuck up. He heard the other end pick up and snapped into the call. “Hello? Who is this? Who the fuck are you?” 

There was a sound, as if someone had finally released the breath they'd been holding. “Genji?”

His heart thudded up into his throat, the gun lowering to his side. “...brother?”


End file.
